Mistakes We Knew We Were Making
by SillverMedal
Summary: Welcome to life. Reality is more than existance. Complete!
1. May, 2009

**A/N**: I'm very excited about writing this story. Basically what it is is a following of Zack and Cody's lives when they are just out of college and just beginning to try and make it in the Real World. Drama, humor, angst, tragedy, suspense, romance...It'll have a little bit for everyone if all goes as planned. The chapters are named by dates so that you can keep track of where we are at all times. I've decided to make the starting year 2009, even though it may be a little off, so that it's at least somewhat closer to present day. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the show!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

**Dedication**: To **Suspension** for all her help with chapter one. Thanks again!

* * *

The moment that forever altered the course of his life came on May, 29th, 2009. He was Cody Martin, twenty-three-years-old, graduate of Harvard Medical School, and proud recipient of an internship at St. Rose hospital located forty five minutes and thirteen point eight six seconds exactly from Chicago, Illinois.

In his left hand he carried a small briefcase which made him look old and serious, and in his right a cell phone in which the number two was constantly being pressed as the world's next pediatrician tried unsuccessfully to get a hold of his brother. He stepped off the bus (waving goodbye to the driver as was polite) and walked down the pathway towards the hospital.

An ambulance whizzed past, startling him out of his reverie. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind, he clipped the cell phone to his belt, tightened his grasp on his briefcase, and walked confidently towards the hospital.

It was seven in the morning, so the lobby was almost empty as he walked up to the main desk and through the spinning doors. They reminded him of his adolescence spent living in a Boston hotel, and he smiled reminiscently as he reached the receptionist. "Good morning," he greeted her, reaching into the brief case and finding the letter he'd been sent; certifying that he was in fact able to work as an intern at St. Rose. She took it from him and scrutinized it through pointed glasses.

"Name?" she asked, setting it down and looking through a large book on her desk. Taking out a stamp she sealed the deal on his dream position and handed the manila letter back to him.

"Cody Martin," he said proudly, though the name carried no significance.

"Alright," she said slowly, finding him on the list and highlighting him off. "Cody Martin, you'll be starting out in the ER. Ask for a Dr. Walker."

"Thank you," said Cody, still smiling as he took his briefcase and letter and walked over to the elevator. The buttons weren't labeled, and he had no idea where the ER happened to be. And that was another thing: he wanted to be a pediatrician, _not_ a paramedic. Sighing he pressed the lowest floor above the basement; figuring that was logical.

Butterflies danced in his stomach and his palms were a little sweaty as he clutched the briefcase. This was a big opportunity; the biggest he'd have since graduating college a few months back.

This could very well change his life.

The elevator dinged and with a short, deep breath he stepped out in another lobby. This waiting room was busy compared to the first; mostly men and children looking terrified and excited at the same time. They conversed together because they all shared something in common, Cody could see, and with a quick glance towards the label on the door he saw what. It was the maternity ward.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair and walked up to the receptionist shyly. "Excuse me," he said politely and she turned to smile at him. "I'm starting an internship today in the ER, but I'm not really sure where to find it….?"

The receptionist smiled gently. "Second floor," she said kindly. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Cody said, leaving the waiting room. When the elevator opened yet again he found himself in another lobby, this one clean and rather ugly, sterilized and spelling of anti-bacterial cleaner. He sighed, mustered up his nerve, and walked to the front desk. The lady was dressed in green scrubs, and her red hair contrasted vividly.

"Good morning," said Cody nervously. He handed her the letter. "I'm Cody Martin, and I'm here for my internship with Dr. Walker…?"

She nodded briskly and filed away the paper. "I'm Judy," she said and he nodded warmly. "Dr. Walker's with Dr. Harte. Knock before you enter."

Cody blinked. "Thank you," he said, turning. "Wait-so, where are they?"

Judy didn't look up as the phone rang and she answered. Cody waited patiently until she'd finished taking care of the call and calling out orders to others behind the desks. She looked up, apparently abounding her crusade against acknowledging his presence. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Cody said, trying not to sound like he had an attitude, because he in no way did. Yet."I'm wondering where exactly I can find Dr. Walker. Which room?"

Judy pursed her lips. "Exam room four." She answered curtly.

"Tha-,"

Suddenly a gurney whizzed by and a gaggle of paramedics began shouting out terms Cody didn't understand as white-coated men and women seemed to appear out of thin air and nurses in their pink scrubs opened doors and sounded alarms and readied equipment. Through it all, Judy remained calm, cool, and seemingly unaffected by the onslaught.

Cody watched it all, his mouth slightly open and his eyes big and round. When the commotion had quieted down as doors blocked the emergency from the waiting room, he blew out his breath.

"Exam room four?" he clarified with Judy, trying to keep his voice level.

"Exam room four." she answered before answering another call.

He tightened his grip on his briefcase and steeled himself for his first day on the job that would change his life.

* * *

The moment that forever altered the course of his life came on May, 28th, 2009. He was Zack Martin, twenty-three-years-old, graduate of NYU, and waiting for the story that would define him as the great writer he wanted to be.

And not just any writer. He wanted to be a _newspaper_ writer. A reporter. A journalist. He wanted to stay in this tiny little cramped desk in New York City writing stories about _real life_ at the New York Times while foul-mouthed men sat around at their computers and a handful of Miss Independents sat around phones and jotting down notes so fast you could scarcely see the cheap faux-gem rings on their fingers. He wanted to forever bask in the excitement of a good story, of a good picture, of a good sell. He wanted his name to be recognized all over the Big Apple, and by the millions of readers nationwide.

He wanted all that and a date, but right now he was just an intern typing away at a little piece about a house fire in Brooklyn with the knowledge that the editor would be very disappointed if it wasn't the same quality work he'd seen from young Zack Martin in the past.

"You going out tonight, Zack?" Charlie, his best friend in this center of the universe and fellow intern and roommate in their little apartment eight blocks away.

Zack shook his head. "Nah," he said. "Just gonna write a little and get pizza. You?" His fingers paused as he thought about a suitable adjective for an awkward sentence, and with mild frustration pressed the Backspace key vehemently.

"Her name's Sasha. And she's got a friend who happens to be single _and_ without anything better to do…"

Zack raised a brow. "So?"

Charlie laughed. "_So_," he said, kicking his chair away from his computer desk and looking at Zack in exasperation. "How 'bout it, buddy? You, me, Sasha, and Mystery Girl at Dimes tonight at eight?"  
The Dimes was a little café Zack was rather fond of. He pretended to weigh his options, correcting a rather hideous spelling error and deleting a useless pronoun as he kept his friend waiting. "I guess," he answered finally.

Charlie brightened considerably and started printing his story. Their desks were on the opposite ends of the aisle, and Zack had to turn in his seat to look at the other intern, but he did so now in bafflement. "You're _done_?"

Charlie considered the question for a moment before nodding.

Zack gaped at him. "_How_? It's _three hours_ 'til deadline! Don't you want to check it over and make sure it's, like, okay?"

Charlie rolled his eyes and yanked the papers from the printer. "What happened to the _old_ Zack, man? You never used to care about _editing_."

Zack wrote in a new sentence. "This is the chance of a lifetime," he explained in wonder. "This is the _New York Times_, Charlie! This is my _dream_."

"Yeah, well don't let your 'dream' get in the way of dinner tonight."

Zack laughed. "You paying?"

Charlie snorted. "Let me just pull out my wallet. Count my money. Don't worry; it won't take long. Do you have four seconds?"

He looked expectantly at Zack who shook his head immediately. "Uh-uh," he said. "No, forget it, man. I got a twenty that's supposed to last the rest of the week."

"You got more than that! You have that jar-thing in your room-,"

"-That's for emergencies," Zack told him flatly, reading over a paragraph and frowning as he counted two of the same words in one sentence.

"Okay," said Charlie. "What if I said she's my soul mate, and she'll dump me if we don't pay for food? That enough of an emergency for you?"

Zack grinned and checked a fact. "I can buy us coffee. You good with that?"

"Make it a coffee and some cake and I'm your best friend for life."

Zack chuckled. "We're splitting the cake."

Charlie laughed. "Figures," he said. "Everyone's counting carbs."

"More like counting pennies," Zack said lowly. "This job pays squat."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "But I thought you said it's your _dream_?"

"It is," Zack assured him quickly, returning his attention back to the story. "It _definitely_ is."

* * *

**To Be Continued**

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* * *

**

_Please review!_


	2. June, 2009: Cody

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

**Dedication**: To **Suspension** for all her help. You most certainly rock :)!

* * *

"Hi, I'm Cody Martin. I'll be taking care of you today."

The woman looked at him skeptically, holding her bruised elbow protectively. "You're not a doctor?" she questioned him slowly, grey eyes slanted.

There was a time where his kind and cheerful smile would have faded at such a remark, but he was a seasoned intern with a month already under his belt, and this statement, true as it was, wouldn't sway him.

"I'm an intern," he explained calmly, holding the patient's chart in his hands and still smiling. "I've been trained by the doctors."

The woman still looked disbelieving, but she made no protest as he gently picked up her arm and inspected the bruised skin. It was Sunday and the main offices were closed so all the patients had to come through the ER.

"Okay," he said, unwrapping his stethoscope and jotting down her vitals. "It looks like you might have fractured your elbow. I'm going to call for x-rays just to make sure, but I'm fairly certain."

The woman crinkled her nose. "It was Abigail's boy three houses down. Kid's a damn _nuisance_ all day long. Here I am, trimming my Petunias and he makes this _screeching_ noise so loud I _swear_, doctor, he was trying to raise _Hell_ and I fall backwards out of pure _shock_ onto my poor elbow."

Cody nodded sympathetically, not correcting the incorrect title. "Well, I'll arrange some x-rays and we'll have you back to your Petunias very soon."

But the woman was hardly finished and as he turned to leave she called him back, voice shrill. "Do you think I should press charges, doctor? I'm not as young as I used to be and paying for these new _exams_ is much too expensive if you ask me."

Cody remained polite and serious despite the overwhelming urge to snort a laugh. "I don't think that would be necessary, Mrs. Bloom, but if you want I can-,"

"-No, no," the woman waved him off, looking disgruntled. "You're right, of course. Wouldn't want to drag poor Abigail into those horrible court systems. Not since that Edward left her. He was a doctor, too, you know."

Cody nodded. "Was he? I'll just go get those x-rays for you, Mrs. Bloom."

He left the room and walked to the front desk. Judy was busy trying to reason with what appeared to be an angry father who _insisted_ upon a doctor _immediately_ because her stomach ache had gone _too damn long_ without treatment.

"You want me to take care of this?" he asked the receptionist in a low voice.

"No, Dr. Walker wants to see you. He's in exam room four." She sighed. "I can take care of this."

Cody grinned a little and walked past her towards the even numbered exam rooms. His white coat was shorter than the doctors and his I.D. badge said INTERN but other than that he looked like a medical professional. St. Rose was a heavily visited hospital and even on odd days like Tuesday and Wednesday they still saw quite a bit of action in the good ole' ER.

He was wondering what his mentor could want to say to him when something suddenly collided into him and he lay sprawled out on the floor, clipboard skittering across the tile. Shaking his head, he looked up and came face to face to a girl.

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed helping him to his feet. "I wasn't paying attention; are you hurt?"

He blinked a few times, flashing a lopsided grin. "No," he said. "Don't worry about it." She smiled apologetically and handed him his fallen clipboard. He thanked her and held out his hand. "Cody Martin," he said. "Intern."

She smiled and shook it. "Allison Reynolds. Same."

"Did you just start today? I've never-never seen you before…" He was usually shy with girls; had been since the middle school days.

"I'm actually over in maternity, but I'm supposed to bring a baby over from the ER. It had some respitory problems and the mother is anxious to see it again." She wore her brown hair up in a pony tail and every time she spoke it flittered a little. Cody tried to remain calm in her presence. He was almost a doctor, after all.

Nodding he continued to smile. "That's great," he said. "Good luck with your patients and your, um, your internship."

Allison smiled and nodded as she walked past him. Cody stared after her, feeling butterflies torment his stomach, making him feel queasy as he walked to exam room four. That was nothing new. He used to feel sick every time he was in the presence of Dr. Keith Walker. The man was getting older now, but in his younger days he had pulled off some of the greatest miracles of the decade and Cody was honored to be able to learn in his presence.

Exam room four was the least populated of the exam rooms. The graying doctor stood looking at the x-rays of someone with a serious problem in their rib cage. Cody knocked twice on the metal frame of the door and Dr. Walker beckoned him in. "Tell me what you see," he said, looking at the x-rays with a quizzical expression and the cap of a pen in his mouth.

Cody bit his lower lip and obeyed. "I see a break here-," he pointed to one of the ribs. "And here…And there's discharge in the lungs…Were they punctured?"  
Dr. Walker nodded slightly. "Yes, the left was. You're looking at the result of bullying in our school systems." He sighed deeply and adjusted his glasses as he turned to his intern. "Sad, isn't it?"

"Bullying?" Cody echoed. The older man nodded. "How old's the kid?"

"Sixteen." Dr. Walker answered, reaching to take down the x-rays. "His older brother managed to fight off the other kids but not in time to prevent this."

Cody nodded solemnly. "That's horrible," he said. A few moments passed. "Judy said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes," said Dr. Walker, leading him over to a small table and filing away the x-rays. "I was actually hoping that you could speak to this kid. Ask him a few questions…Usually I wouldn't get involved but he's pretty shaken up and his brother's considering filing a police report. He may respond to you better than psych."

Cody frowned at him. "Me? But I'm not a doctor-,"

"-_Yet_," Dr. Walker reminded him. "But I seem to remember you saying that you were picked on in school, am I right?"

Cody nodded and looked down bashfully. "My brother would protect me, too," he said quietly.

"I'll take whatever you had next if you'll go do this."

Cody handed him his clipboard and briefed him quickly as they walked out of the exam room. "Sixty nine-year-old woman with a hairline fraction to her elbow. I called down for x-rays and she's waiting in exam two. Also, a forty two-year-old man bit by a Doberman Pincher in exam one; Janet's in there now and we're working to find out if the dog's had its rabies vaccination. Judy's in the middle of a catfight with a man who thinks his daughter has a severe case of the stomach flu and I decided to let you be the judge on how serious it actually is."

Dr. Walker nodded briskly and switched clipboards with his young intern. "Sounds good. Let me know when you break for lunch. We can hit Subway."

Cody laughed. "Sounds great. I'll page you."

They split up and he walked into exam room three while glancing over the chart. A teenaged boy occupied the bed; light hair tousled and arms folded as he looked moodily at the wall. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt, and instead of lying down he sat on the bed. In a chair a few feet away was an older boy flipping through the newspaper. They both looked up as Cody walked in.

"Did you get the x-rays back?" the older boy asked, rising from his seat.

"Yes," said Cody, pinning them up. The younger boy still stared at the wall, though his older brother walked over immediately. Cody pointed to the ribs. "We have two cracked ribs and a punctured lung. All of which will heal on its own given time, and none of which is worrying us at the moment."

"Punctured lung? Isn't that pretty serious-,"

"-In some cases, yes, but right now it's nothing we're that concerned about."

The older boy nodded slowly. He turned to Cody and held out his hand. "Greg Dellver." He said. "This is my brother Jonathon."

"Intern Cody Martin," said Cody, shaking the hand. "Nice to meet you." He walked over to the bed and tried to make eye contact with Jonathon. No luck there. "Jonathon? You want to tell me what happened?"

Greg sighed in the background. "He hasn't said a word since," he explained. "Hey-do you mind if I step out and grab a cup of coffee? I missed lunch."

"No problem," said Cody. "Take your time."

He leaned against a cabinet and waited for Jonathon to say something. It took a few minutes, but finally the kid spoke. "They jumped me," he said flatly.

"Who did?" Cody asked.

Jonathon shrugged. "Guys from school. Like, six of them."

"Do you know why?"

The high school student rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't get it." he said.

Cody blew out his breath and sat down in a chair, hand smoothing down his short blonde hair and fixing his crooked blue tie at the same time. He folded his palms in his lap and looked at the patient. "Try me."

* * *

**To Be Continued**

**

* * *

**

_Please review!_


	3. June, 2009: Zack

**A/N**: Thanks to all the reviewers!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

"I swear this place gets smaller every day,"

Zack laughed and followed Charlie into the Dimes. Jazzy music was playing to back up the dark blue walls and modern furniture; odd shaped little coffee tables centered circles of comfy oval couches. There was a little bar in the back and loud voices resonated off the potted green plants and abstract paintings.

They stood at the front for a few seconds as Charlie scoped out the place for a good seating area. "Over here," he said finally, leading his best friend over to a vacant mini table. "The girls should be here any sec. You wanna go get us some drinks?"

"I told you. Just coffee."

Charlie plopped down on the coach and nodded. "I know," he said. His eyes darted from customer to customer aimlessly, until someone caught his eye and he craned his neck a little to get a better view. "Hey-," he began, squinting. "Is that Seth?" Zack turned to look and sure enough, it was. "HEY!" Charlie called out to their friend. "SETH!"

The red-head turned and, upon seeing his friends, waltzed over. He held a little glass of what looked like beer. He embraced both of them before sitting across from their couch, setting the beverage on a coaster. "How's it going, guys?"  
"The usual," Charlie answered, lounging back. "Crappy jobs, crappy home, crappy weather…"

"Shut up," Zack told him playfully. He rolled his eyes at Seth who grinned. "It's not that bad. We got these jobs working at the _Times_, and I figure, even if it doesn't pay much _now_, in a few years…" His eyes sparkled and he nodded significantly. _Cha-ching_ his mind sung.

Seth nodded as they briefed him on their lives since leaving college a few months before. He'd been in Michigan visiting family members and had only just returned to the Big Apple to try and get a job with some company.

"…and where you planning on staying, man?" Charlie asked him.

Seth shrugged. "You guys got room in that apartment?"

Zack and Charlie exchanged glances. "It's tiny," said Zack as Charlie said, "It's cramped…"

Seth rolled his eyes. "Can't be any worse than those Dorm rooms."

And with laughter he held his drink in a toast and Zack and Charlie raised imaginary glasses as they said gallantly, "To New York City!"

The door to the café opened and two girls walked in. Charlie stood up hastily and winked at Zack before hurrying over to them. "Sasha and the _friend_!" they heard him exclaim flirtatiously.

Seth chuckled and sipped at his drink. Zack grinned slightly. "Guess he hasn't changed much since NYU?"

"Nah," said Zack. "Not a bit."

"And what about you? You different?"

Zack watched Charlie lead the girls over as he attempted to charm them. He became aware of Seth looking at him closely and shrugged. "I know what I want now," he answered, tearing his gaze away from his date.

Seth raised a brow. "A tiny apartment in New York City, a girlfriend who's planning on ditching you for that guy with the Mohawk back there, and a crappy job that pays squat?"

"Hey!" Zack protested in good humor. "That 'crappy' job happens to be my calling in life. Man—working for the _Times_? Once in a lifetime shot."

Seth snorted. "A once in a lifetime shot that barely pays the rent?"

Zack grinned. "The landlord reads my column. He's a fan."

"You have a _column_?"

"_Yes_," said Zack defensively. "In section J. Near the bottom-,"

"There's a section _J_?"

Zack threw a straw at him. "Shut up!" he reprimanded him in mock indignation. Seth laughed and took another swig of his drink. He offered it up to Zack who held up his hands and shook his head. "No," he answered firmly. "I'm not gonna be like those alcoholic writers who weigh four hundred pounds and date their cousins." Seth snorted into his drink.

"So, you're gonna be one of those suicidal writers who stay at home all day weighing one hundred and fifteen pounds and name their cats after characters in the books no one's ever gonna read?"  
Zack thought this over for a moment. "What do you have against cats?"

Seth shrugged. "My grandma's got a cat. Name's Douglass."

Zack smirked. "Well, I already live with a cow-,"

"-Pardon me?" Charlie slid into the empty seat, followed by a brown-haired girl who called herself Sasha, and a blonde that Zack didn't know. "Sasha, you remember Zack and Seth,"

"Nice to see you both again." She said, faint french accent kicking into high impersonation gear. She beamed at them, shaking both their hands.

"And this is Maggie," Charlie said as the blonde girl smiled toothily. Zack tried to appear charming and warm, but couldn't find it in him to get into this new girl. He was too busy with his writing to date!

"Are we going to drink something?" Sasha asked, giving Charlie puppy-dog eyes and snuggling closer.

"We are indeed," he answered smoothly, looking expectantly at Zack who rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet.

"Just coffee." he reminded his friend. Charlie waved him off and Zack rose slowly to do what he'd said he'd do. He didn't really mind. He wasn't big on this Maggie; she wasn't his type. Well, she was his _old_ type. New Zack wanted more of a challenge. New Zack was slowly becoming obsessed with his job. New Zack had _dreams_.

And New Zack was running very low on cash.

* * *

They walked home because taxi's were too expensive and riding the subway at night creeped Seth out. The apartment building was in a little part of the town that had some fancy name, but the inhabitants called Endville. Most of the people living in the spaces were working crummy jobs to sustain themselves while they slowly brought their goals to life.

Endville was an ironic name, but Zack thrived on irony.

Charlie opened up the door to their apartment and held it wide open to reveal old furniture, scattered papers, an old soccer ball, college books, and one table that was nearly buried under wrappers and empty cans of 7 Up.

"Nice place you got here," said Seth, laughing, as they closed the door behind them. Zack switched on a light and it flickered dangerously before settling on a dim golden haze.

"Do I look like a frickin' maid, man?" Charlie said, tossing his keys onto the table and kicking a wooden chair out of his way as he stumbled towards his own room. Seth shook his head and turned to Zack who shrugged and collapsed into a chair that oozed stuffing as he sunk into it.

"Make yourself at home." he said casually, snickering a little as Seth lightly stepped over a pair of sunglasses. "The butler's on vacation, so it's a bit…messy…"

Seth laughed and ran a hand through his curly auburn hair. A few minutes past and Zack began to feel a bit tired. He took a look at the clock they'd duct-taped to the wall. It was one in the morning.

"So…What've you been up to lately? Anything?" Seth asked him.

Zack nodded a little. "Writing." He motioned to the paper scattered around on the floor. "I'm trying to-to write this story, you know? Like, a really _good_ one. A best seller. I figure…Working at the _Times_ is good publicity, right, even if I only have some random little column about people in Endville that no one reads."

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself," said Seth, looking at him closely. He shrugged. "The landlord reads your column."

"Actually…" said Zack slowly, beginning to grin. "I kinda made that up…"

Seth burst out laughing. "You're kidding me, man!"

"Nah, I got a little carried away…" Zack picked at a string on one of his socks.

"Do you even _have_ a column?"

Zack nodded enthusiastically. "_Yes_! I do. It's not _much_, but it's something. It's definitely _something_."

Seth looked at him carefully. "You guys are behind on rent, aren't you?"His voice turned stern and Zack shook his head firmly.

"No, we aren't. We both get paid enough for it to work out. Place like this," he looked around, brows raised. "It doesn't cost much, man."

"Great. Now I don't have to work. I can just lounge around all day, flip through a few unpublished chapters of future JK Rowling himself: Zack Martin, and you two will support my a-,"

"-Fat chance. That's _a lot_ to support-,"

He was cut off as Seth threw a dying pillow at him. Zack retaliated with the sharp toss of a can of markers and they continued this boyish display of combat until Charlie shouted for them to stop in the next room.

"See?" Zack said, grinning widely. "Life here? It's pretty darn good, man."

And he had no idea how wrong he was soon going to be.

* * *

**To Be Continued

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**

_Please review!_


	4. July, 2009: Cody

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews! I'd just like to cover myself by saying that I am in no way a doctor or any kind of medical expert at all, so if my hospital details are a little sketchy, it's because it's all based off of _ER_ reruns and Google. Blame them ;).

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

By the time Cody pulled into his driveway it was nine forty five—three hours later than his shift had specified. With a sigh he parked it in the garage, closed the door, and got out his keys.

The little neighborhood was a nice one; mostly single workers who commuted from Chicago each day. The houses were small, but more than enough space for one person and Cody had allowed his mother to come in and help him decorate.

When he walked into the house his golden retriever, Buster, greeted him with a sweeping feathery tail and an eager tongue that licked his hands as he set down his white coat and I.D. card on the kitchen counter. He let the dog out to go to the bathroom and then sunk down into his couch, pressing the voicemail button.

The machine informed him that he had two unheard messages. He waited for the beep, and listened to the voice that followed.

"Hey, Cody, it's Allison. I had a lot of fun going out to eat lunch with you today, and I just wanted to apologize about having to leave so soon. Duty calls, right? Anyway, I've got these two tickets to see this concert Friday night. Let me know if you want to come. I'll talk to you tomorrow-my treat. Bye." _Click_.

He smiled and pressed nine to save. _Next unheard message_…

"Uh, hey, Cody," Cody frowned slightly and turned up the volume. Now, _there_ was a voice he hadn't heard in a while. "It's Zack. Um. I'm running kind of low on cash…I need, well, kind of a lot. For rent and stuff. It's cool if you can't…I mean, I know it's asking for a lot but I don't want to be evicted, you know?" A nervous laugh. "So just give me a call back when you get this…And, uh, congrats on getting that job. You've gotta be one hell of a doctor." A pause. "Um…Okay. I'll let you go. Just…You know what? Forget it. I don't know why I called. I'm fine. See you at Thanksgiving. Enjoy the summer."

Cody listened to the message over again before saving it and picking up the cordless phone. Typical Zack. Big dreams, big heart, big city…Little paycheck. Cody had no doubt he had the talent to make it big, but would he find his chance? He took out a small card from his billfold and looked up Zack's apartment phone number.

It rang three times before the machine picked it up with, "This is Charlie, Zack, and Seth. We're probably screening your call. Don't take it personally. Later!"

Cody raised a brow and waited for the beep. When it sounded he cleared his throat and glanced at his watch. "Hey, Zack, it's Cody. It's five to ten on Wednesday night and I'm returning your call from earlier today. Listen, if you need money just let me know. It's no problem. I'd be glad to fund the next big writer-,"

-Suddenly there was a click and Cody stopped talking. "You Zack's brother?"

He blinked. "Uh, yeah," he said hesitantly. "Who is this?"

"This is Seth."

Cody had no idea who that was. "Is Zack there?"

A hesitant pause. Cody could hear loud voices in the background and he frowned deeper. "…Can he call you back?" Seth sounded a little concerned, and Cody furrowed his brow.

"Is he okay?"

"Uh, yeah…" Seth sounded a little dubious and Cody grew more worried.

"Why can't he come to the phone, then? Is he there?"

"Look," said the guy named Seth, lowering his voice. "We had kind of a rough day. Muggers and crap like that. Can he call you back, like, later?"

Cody sighed and scratched Buster's belly. "Okay, can you give him my cell? I'm really only home nights and some Sundays."

"Yeah, yeah," Seth sounded preoccupied and his voice grew a bit faint, as though the reception was fading.

Cody said the number out loud, repeating it twice to make sure the numbers got through. "I can try to get the money there soon. When's the rent due?"

"What?" Seth sounded surprised. "Why?"

Cody raised a brow. "Zack called and started to ask for some money earlier…?"

"Why would he need money?"

Cody stifled a yawn. "Because you're behind on your rent, right?"

"Not at all!" Seth protested. "The three of us all have jobs. We make rent no problem. We all went out to dinner because we had the extra money. And Zack's got that-that jar of cash in his room for emergencies, anyway."

Cody frowned and tossed a rubber ball for Buster to fetch. "Look, I don't know. Maybe it was for something else. Just have him call me back, okay?"

He hung up after saying goodbye and massaged his temples as he lay back on the couch. He hadn't spoken to Zack lately, though he'd heard through emails and calls with his mother that his twin had gotten a job working for the _Times_. Cody was proud of him, but more than a little concerned. Zack had a history of making stupid decisions…And now life with three friends in a New York City apartment?

He shook his head and went into the kitchen, planning to pour a glass of wine and heat up some leftover spaghetti before turning in for the night. It had been a long day…He would complete his intern training in another month, and then he'd have to pass his exams before becoming a doctor-in-training at St. Rose.

Buster sat handsomely and whined pathetically. Cody squatted in front of him and gave him a little hug. "Good boy," he murmured, cuddling the dog. "Did you have a good walk today with Lily?"

The dog huffed as if to say that yes, he did indeed enjoy his midday walk with the neighbor girl who Cody paid to keep his lonesome pooch company. He'd considered a few times going to the Humane Society to adopt a friend for Buster, but each time he got up to do such a thing he was paged by Dr. Walker or the other hospital workers to help out with some emergency at work.

On his way upstairs once he'd finished his dinner he tapped some fish food into the little glass bowl where his goldfish swam. Buster followed loyally at his feet and padded into the master bedroom.

Cody was just changing into his pajama pants when his beeper cried out and he hurried out of the closet to glance at the words. He reread the name several times before it registered as Allison and it took him a moment to remember he should call her. Why did he always lose his mind when it came to her? _Why_?

She answered on the first ring. "Cody! Thank God."

"What's up?" he asked her, halfway through loosening his tie.

"There was a bus accident. This woman's pregnant—but she needs to have surgery and we're short-handed. She's going into labor!"

Cody ripped off his pajama bottoms and replaced them with the first pair of pants he could reach—blue jeans. "Okay," he said. "I can be there in fifteen minutes. Fill me in—a bus accident? Were there any other survivors?"

"Seven: four were taken in with head trauma, two had to be resuscitated, and one's in the OR right now. We've only got Dr. Walker, Dr. Carey, and Dr. Sharret and then me and four nurses. We need you!"  
He gave an apologetic chew toy to Buster before yanking on his white coat and getting into his car. "Fifteen minutes, okay? Where do you want me to go?"

There was a pause as Allison said something quickly to someone in the background. "Right now we need you in trauma room four, but that could change. Call me _as soon_ as you get into the parking lot."

"Got it," said Cody, backing out of the driveway and nearly speeding out onto the main road. "I'll see you soon. And good luck!"

"Thanks!"

He disconnected the call and turned on the news, hoping to get a feed into the emergency. His favorite news station failed to disappoint, brining in clear detail the horror Cody was soon going to have to face. And not only face, but help _fix_. Major catastrophes like this didn't happen too often, but when they did Cody was depended upon like he was a seasoned doctor and there was no room for mistakes.

He was busy running through his game plan to help Dr. Walker and the other team of medical professionals when his cell phone began to ring. Thinking it was Allison he answered on the first ring, not even bothering to check the ID.

"Cody Martin," he said urgently, glaring at a red light as it took longer than he wanted to turn green.

"Hey, it's me,"

Cody swore mentally. He didn't have time for this now! "Zack," he said, trying to sound calm. "How are you?" He'd just find out if anything was wrong with his brother and then when he learned that nothing was he'd end the call and focus, focus, _focus_ on the problem at hand.

"I'm okay, I guess," said Zack, though his tone said otherwise. He was nearly whispering, as though he didn't want this conversation to be heard by any of his roommates. "Look, I told you I needed money for rent, but I kind of lied."

Cody accelerated to five over and narrowly avoided a hitchhiking raccoon. "Look, Zack, I'm really busy right now, okay? There's an emergency over at the hospital and I have to be there soon." He sped through a flickering yellow.

"Oh," Zack's voice sounded a little hurt. "Yeah. Okay. No problem. Just…Um…I didn't want to bother mom, you know?"

"Bother mom with what?" Cody pressed. He didn't have time for guessing games, dammit! Zack wasn't a doctor. He didn't understand the responsibilities of the medical field! He didn't understand responsibility period, actually.

Zack must've sensed Cody's impending impatience because he finally gave a straight answer. "I've been having these headaches…And they're really bad…I'm having trouble concentrating at work, and I need some money for Aspirin."

Cody lacked the time to feel concerned for someone who wasn't currently bleeding to death on an unattended examination table. "No problem. I'll send them tomorrow. Is that it?"

"Well, yeah-,"

"-Okay. I have to go then. Talk to you later." Cody snapped the phone shut, cutting off Zack's _bye_. He pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and dialed Allison's number. She picked up on the first ring.

"You're here?"

"I'm just walking in," said Zack, locking up his car and running through the swinging doors as he flashed security his ID badge. He ducked into the elevator and selected the floor's button. "Still need me in trauma four?"

"No. We-we lost the patient." Allison's voice sounded tired and heavy. "We've got three patients in trauma two. That's where we need you."

Zack left the elevator and sped down the halls. "I'm there," he said, panting and putting away the phone. Allison appeared in the flesh as she waved him into a room. He followed her hastily inside and did what he was told to do upon entering.

For five minutes they worked diligently on a thirty-something man, but despite their best efforts he flat lined and was unable to be revived. Cody sighed and wiped the bloody gloves on the yellow covering over his coat.

"Good job, guys," said Dr. Walker heavily. "Time of death?"

Allison looked at her watch. "Eleven fifteen," she said lowly.

"Okay," said Dr. Walker, turning to a nurse wearing pink scrubs. "Did he have any family out in the waiting room?"  
She nodded and disconnected the machine. "His wife and daughters," she said. "I can go tell them, if you want-,"

"-No," said Dr. Walker sadly. He turned to Cody. "Do you think you can do this?" Cody looked at him, mouth hanging open slightly. He'd never been made to tell family members anything regarding patients, though he'd watched it been done hundreds of times. This was a test he'd been waiting to have to have to take.

"I think so, sir," he managed, voice thick. Allison looked at him sympathetically and he tried to appear sure of himself. "What was his name?"

"David Bradley."

Cody nodded and blew out his breath before leaving the room and heading grimly down the hall. In the other rooms other survivors were being cared for and he ducked out of the way as more gurneys were sped down where he'd come from. Numbly, he walked into the waiting room, looking at the tearful people and trying to appear strong, though inside he felt like he was crumbling with guilt and responsibility.

"Family of David Bradley?" He spoke out, surprised by how cool and professional his voice sounded. And that was a good thing. Wasn't it?

A woman and two little girls stood and he tried on a tiny smile as he walked over, sitting across from them as they resat themselves. "We did all we could and I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but we were unable to save your husband."

And as he watched her reaction he reminded himself that if he was going to be a doctor, going to be this miracle worker, he would have to get used to unhappy endings. Endings like this.

And it alarmed him as he realized that, though he'd only been at the hospital for two and a half months, he already was.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

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_Please review_!


	5. July, 2009: Zack

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews! To myfellow_RENT_ fans: If there are any similarities (particularily setting-wise) I hope this doesn't bother you as I assure youit's purely coincidental. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack or Cody_.

* * *

Zack held a hand to his temple and pressed, trying to drone out the edge of pain as it creeped into his retina and throbbed beneath his fingertips. The curser blinked on the computer screen, waiting for the command to tell it what words should come after _Mr. Henshaw was unavailable for comment though a note taped to his dresser spilled the _…

Keys tapped all around him and voices rose softly over the din of work and faint smell of Starbucks Coffee. Zack flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt to both drown out the distractions and conserve heat which he seemed to be lacking. Goosebumps rose on his arms and he shivered periodically.

"You okay?" Charlie asked him quietly as he reached over to borrow a paperclip. Zack swallowed thickly and nodded slightly.

"Headache," he answered, picking up the phone near his computer and dialed from memory. The call went through after three rings.

"Sup?"

Zack stifled a yawn. Sleep last night had been virtually nonexistent. "Seth. Hey. It's Zack."

"And again I say: sup?"

Zack smiled a little. "You doing anything today?"

"You know, the usual. Lot of radio surfing, shoplifting, and sketching."

Zack squinted to try and focus on the computer screen again, balancing the phone between his shoulder and chin as he brought his fingers back to the keyboard. "So you're not busy?"

"Why? You playing hooky, or something?"

Zack clenched his eyes shut as another fierce spasm of pain exploded in his head. "No," he said, jaw clenched. "Can you pick up some Aspirin at the store?"

"Another headache?"

"Yeah," said Zack quickly, taking a quavering breath. "I can't take another pill until Charlie and I get back, but we ran out of them this morning."

"You want me to use the money your brother sent, right?"  
Zack shivered. "Yeah. Thanks, man."

"Hey, if we're lucky I won't have to use any cash at all…"

Zack laughed and refocused his attention on the story after he hung up the phone. It was about some bus accident in Chicago and really didn't interest Zack all that much. Six people had died at the scene and four at St. Rose Hospital (which rang a bell with Zack, but he could quite place it) later. He had three quotes, seven facts, and police reports, but for some reason this story wasn't as riveting to him as it should have been. Compared to his usual stuff regarding bankruptcy and theft this was a juicy article, but his throbbing head wouldn't let him _concentrate_.

He typed a little more until a shadow fell over him and the desk. He looked around and immediately sat up straighter.

"Mr. Smith," he said, addressing his boss and trying to ignore the pounding pain as he looked obediently up for orders.

"Mr. Martin." Smith answered briskly, giving him a slip of paper. As Zack went over it quickly he explained what it said. "There's an opening for human interest pieces down on the second floor. I recommended you for the position."

Zack looked up at him in shock. "Really? Wow-I-this is great! Thanks so much, Mr. Smith!"

The older man nodded and motioned to the computer. "That's a big story you're writing," he said gruffly. "Have it in to me by seven. If it's as good as the other stuff you've done then the job is yours."

Zack grinned. "No problem, Mr. Smith, no problem." He fought back a wince and blinked a few times to clear a tinge of fog from his eyes. "I'll get it done now."

The editor nodded again and walked away. Charlie leaned across the aisle with wide eyes. "Dude!" he exclaimed.

Zack smiled from ear to ear. "I can't believe it!" he said, voice quiet. "Human Interest? That's my _dream_, man!"

Charlie rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Yeah, and what isn't these days? But do you know what this means?"

Zack did, but before he could answer his friend cut him off.

"Party!"

* * *

That night Zack sat at one of the back tables in the Dimes, sipping at a cup of coffee and waiting for the Aspirin to kick in. Seth slid into the booth next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Heard about the big break," he said over the noise of the café. "Congrats."

"Thanks," said Zack, holding his wrist to his temples in an effort to dull the pain. "How long does it take for the medicine to work?"

"Like, twenty minutes," said Seth, bring both his arms to stretch in front of him like a cat. "Why—is it that bad?"

Zack clenched his jaw and nodded stiffly.

Seth looked at him closely in concern. "Man," he said. "Your pupils are all weird. Like, dilated. How much coffee did you _drink_?"

Zack swallowed a drink. "One. This one. Though now that you mention it-,"

"-I'm not a doctor, but I don't think caffeine's the smart way to go. Maybe you should take it easy back in the apartment, you know? Skip out on tonight. Charlie's got enough personality for the three of us."

"Yeah? Okay. Maybe I will go and lay down, or something. I have the day off tomorrow because the boss liked the story so much." said Zack, draining the rest of his coffee and tossing it into a trash can.

Seth scooted out of the booth. "Sweet, man, we can be bums together." Heignoredthe flirtatious stare of a blonde waitress."I'll go home with you. This party sucks."

They were halfway out the door and walking back to the apartments when Zack suddenly stopped dead and buried his head in his hands, shaking slightly. He groaned shortly and leaned heavily against a lamppost, breathing labored and uneven as he gasped in pain.

Seth hurried over to him and grabbed his arm, forcing his friend to look up. "Hey-," he said in alarm. "Hey, you okay, man?"

Zack started to shake his head and then cried out as a wave of fresh agony overcame him, hot and throbbing. Black dots appeared before him and he blinked rapidly to clear away tears of pain. "Hurts," he managed in a strangled whisper.

"Okay," said Seth quickly and Zack could pick up on a note of panic in his voice. "Okay. Um…Let's just-let's just get to the apartment, okay?"

Zack could barely hear Seth talking, but allowed himself to be led away from the lamp and then up flights and flights of stairs before he recognized the smell of the loft-apartment. He dared to open his eyes a little further and was met by a thousand angry volts of glaring white light that jarred into his pupils like knives into his pulsating head. He still gripped his hair in an effort to make the mind-numbing pain bearable, though he'd long given up on the apparently useless Aspirin.

Seth was still talking but Zack could understand none of it, he was too wrapped up in a grey world bent on causing his painful demise and when he felt himself sink into the couch the sharp ache lessoned slightly when blonde hair met a soft pillow. He screwed his eyes shut and brought his fist to the side of his head.

"Hey, Zack, come on, talk to me, man." Seth's voice was nervous and he squatted in front of the couch worriedly, phone in hand. "Do you-do youwant me to call 911?" Zack swallowed thick bial and tried to take a deep breath.

"No," he managed, shaking. The throbbing had reduced to a duller pain that was more annoying and less agonizing. He cracked open an eye and was comforted not to be paralyzed by fiery stabs of white light. "No, I think-I thinkI'm okay now."

"The Aspirin must be kicking in," said Seth quickly, eager to latch on to something logical.

Zack slowly sat up, resting his head on the back of the couch as he slouched down into the cushion, Indian-style. "What _was_ that?" he asked softly.

Seth shrugged and ran a hand through his dark red curls. "I have no idea," he said, sounding confused. "I don't-It was freaky, man. Out on the street…I thought you were having a seizure, or something."

Zack shook his head and closed his eyes tiredly. "I can't get sick now," he said, tone pleading. "I have that new job to start on Monday."

"I don't know, man, but maybe you want to call your brother, or something? He's a doctor, isn't he? Maybe there's some…Flu thing going around."

Zack squinted at his friend, trying to clear out his suddenly fuzzy vision. "Yeah," he said absentmindedly. "Maybe…" Dark shadows moved across his vision and he attempted (unsuccessfully) to straighten them out.

"Charlie's gonna be, like, so confused when he finds out we left the party." Seth tried a joke and Zack laughed a little, despite his currant angst.

"I can't believe I got Human Interest…" Zack said wonderingly. "How perfect is that? I can go around and get the stories that _really_ matter. Stories about, like, _people_ and stuff about the city, you know?" He returned Seth's grin and blew out his breath. "I can't screw this up now, man."

Seth got up and walked over to the mini-kitchen, slapping two pieces of old bread on a plate and adding spreading on peanut butter with a plastic spoon to make dinner. It was a feast compared to what Zack and Charlie had eaten pre _Times_.

"Dude," said Seth around the sandwich. "You won't screw it up, man. You're _Zack Martin_; Section J, remember?"

Zack laughed a little, more cheerful now that the throbbing had ebbed. "You're right," he said more confidently. "This is my _dream_. And I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna make history, man. I _will_ be the headlines."

Seth pointed the sandwich at him. "That's the spirit," he said, mouth full.

And the headaches disappeared for two glorious weeks.

But, as New York City never fails to remind its loyal residents, nothing lasts forever.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

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_Please review_!


	6. August, 2009: Cody

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

**_FIFTEEN MONTHS PREVIOUSLY_**

"I don't know how I'm gonna do it, man, I don't know how I'm gonna pass."

"Cody, dude, you ace everything."

"Not everything. I almost failed English Lit."

"Except for that, apparently."

Cody rolled his eyes as he and his dorm mate Tapeworm turned the knob to try and get into their room. Cody tried the door, but it stuck firmly. "It's locked," he said in disbelief.

"Why would he lock it?" Tapeworm asked, referring to their friend Jason who had sworn to take the entire evening off for studying for finals.

Cody shrugged and pulled out his key. Opening the door he stepped in first, fully expecting to be met by two messy bunks, papers scattered intermixed with last week's socks and the familiar smell of the cologne Tapeworm wore on dates with the girls of Harvard.

What he saw instead made his eyes bug out and he gagged as he pulled the door shut and took a staggering step backward, emitting a strangled cry.

"What is it?" Tapeworm asked in confusion, frowning as he looked from Cody to the door. "Cody? Are you okay?" he grasped his friends shoulder before reaching out for the door. Cody was leaning against the wall, face drained of color and gasping great gulps of air. He cried out suddenly.

"No!" he shouted, shaking. "Don't-don't go in!"

Tapeworm turned wildly back to him before he swung the door wide and open. "Holy sh…" he brought his hands up to cover his mouth and shook his head slowly, backing away from the door.

There, in the doorway, was Jason. Dead.

An empty bottle of pills was still in his left hand.

_**PRESENT DAY**_

"Are you going to kiss me?"

Cody raised a brow slightly as Allison, who sat in front of him, giggled softly. He was close to her, their faces mere inches apart. It was noon and they had just finished a lunch together.

"It's only our third date-," he began to protest, but at her sweet smile he forgot his hesitations and leaned closer until their lips meant, one hand moving up to cup her cheek. His heart began to beat a furious tattoo against his ribcage and he could feel her long lashes against his cheek.

They broke apart and smiled at each other until she averted her gaze down and settled back onto her chair, smoothing out her napkin and taking sip of ice water. Cody found himself blushing slightly and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Technically it's our fourth," Allison said after a minute.

Cody looked up at her bashfully. "What?"

She laughed a little and he stuffed more of his sandwich into his mouth.

"Our fourth _date_," she clarified.

"Oh," he said, nodding slightly. "Well, I wasn't counting the time we gave that little girl a band aid,"

"I thought that was very romantic." Allison joked and he laughed with her until a pager beeped shrilly. Both interns checked their belt clips and it ended up being Cody as he winced apologetically.

"It's Dr. Walker," he said. "I should really-,"

"-No, no, go ahead," said Allison, waving him off as she picked at more of the lettuce in her salad. "We should actually get back soon. It's almost a quarter after."

Cody sighed internally (he loved spending time with her) but nodded. "Okay," he said. "Let me just take this and then we can start heading back."

He kissed her again to say goodbye as the elevator stopped at her floor, and then couldn't get himself to stop smiling as he rode it up to the ER. Straightening his tie and white coat he waltzed out of the elevator with spirits dangerously high for someone who had just been called in to help with an emergency.

He walked up to Judy at the front desk, still wearing a small grin. "Go to lunch yet?" he asked her heartily.

She laughed shortly, sarcastically. "Honey, I haven't left this desk in twenty six years." He raised a brow and grabbed a file out of the organizer with his name on it.

"The weather's bad, anyway," he said, not scanning the papers as he headed towards Exam Room Four. He nodded politely at the passing staff members and cheerfully knocked twice on the door before swinging it widely. As he took in the patients in the room his jaw dropped and his heart skipped a violent beat.

In the bed was Jonathon, the chair again occupied by Greg. Cody took a hesitant step inside, brow furrowed and an alien feeling of trepidation gripping his insides as his stomach squirmed uncomfortably.

"Cody," said Dr. Walker from the chart at the edge of the bed. He walked over and steered his young charge out of the room and into the hall, closing the door. Cody's face was paler than usual and he stared up at his mentor with an expression akin to that of shock.

"What-what happened?" he asked breathlessly. It had been months since he'd last seen the kid, but they'd had a long heart to heart about bullying and fitting in and how much it sucked to be the one everyone hated…

Dr. Walker sighed deeply. "He overdosed," he said. "On pain medication."

"Accidenta-,"

"-No," said the seasoned doctor and Cody's heart dropped. A part of him had, for a moment, blamed it all on a mistake. Obviously _he'd_ been the one mistaken. "We're calling it a suicide attempt."

Cody ran a hand through his blonde hair and blew out his breath. "Um," he started, voice thick. "You've started treatment, then?"

Dr. Walker nodded and scanned the chart. "We have. We expect him to make a full recovery, however psych wants to keep him here under a watch for a few days."

"Right," said Cody quietly, nodding and scratching his elbow. "You want me to check vitals or-,"

"Sandra can do that," said the doctor, referring to a nurse. "No, I was actually hoping for a repeat of the favor I asked you a few months ago."

Cody swallowed thickly. "You mean talk to him again?" At the veteran's nod Cody shook his head slightly. "Dr. Walker, I'd be glad to, but obviously last time it made no difference-,"

"-Jonathon attempted to kill himself shortly after finding out that his mother had died in a car accident. His brother Gregory tells me that Jonathon had been on his way to their mother's house to show her the award he won. It was only after your talk with him that he agreed to enter an art contest through his high school-,"

"-Yeah," said Cody solemnly. "He paints."

Dr. Walker nodded seriously. "I'd say it made a great deal of a difference." he said gravely before clicking his ballpoint pen and scribbling something down on a slip of paper he then handed to a desk receptionist.

Cody sighed. "Has he woken up yet?"

Dr. Walker shook his head. "Not yet, no."

Cody nodded and walked over to the door. "I can take it from here, doc," he said, smiling a little as the older doctor laughed slightly. Cody pushed the door open and closed it behind him, walking over to the x-rays and glancing over at them.

"You're that intern," said a voice behind him. Cody turned and nodded at Greg who sat in the chair, eyes red-rimmed. "I never got the chance to say thank you."

"Oh," said Cody, shrugging. "You're welcome. It was no problem. I've, uh, I've been him."

"Ever tried to kill yourself?"

Cody paused and ran another hand through his hair as he slowly turned to face the college student. "I had a friend who actually succeeded," he said lowly, taking a seat on the other end of the bed. Greg folded his arms over his chest, dark eyes glittering slightly. "I was the one who found him," Cody continued.

Greg sniffed and wiped a hand across his eyes. "I didn't find him," he said, voice wavering dangerously. "I was out looking at…at coffins for my-my mom." He cleared his throat. "Jonathon was at home. My girlfriend was going to surprise him and take him out for ice cream."

Cody sighed softly. "I'm sorry," he said. "That must've been really hard."

"You have a brother, right?"  
Cody nodded. "A twin brother."

Greg sucked in a sharp breath. "And did he-did he protect you. At school?"

"From the bullies?" Greg nodded. Cody rubbed at one his eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. "Yeah, he did." he said.

Greg bit at his lower lip. "I would, too," he said. "But then I graduated and he started coming home with bruises and black eyes and…" He trailed off with a loose shrug. "I didn't ask because I didn't want to-to hurt his pride." His tone turned angry. "His _stupid _Godforsaken _pride_. And now look what happened."

"It's not your fault," said Cody reassuringly. "I see a lot of suicides. Everyone blames themselves. I know it sounds insensitive, but what's done is done. Jonathon was lucky; He's got another chance."

"So do I," said Greg solemnly, taking his brother's still hand and gripping it tightly. Cody smiled wisely and rose from the seat, setting down the chart on a little countertop.

Let me know when he wakes up," he said quietly.

He was just packing up his things up and preparing to leave for home when he felt an arm around his waist. Turning he smiled at Allison. "Are you off?" he asked her.

"Yes,"

He grasped her hand and smiled shyly. "Do you want to go to dinner with me?" He felt like he was back in middle school; trying to get enough nerve to just _ask_ the girl _out_, and then being overcome with embarrassment.

"I'd love to," she answered and he breathed in quiet relief. "Hard day?" she asked as they walked out to their cars together.

"The usual." He said. "I'm beginning to get a hang of this whole doctor thing, I think, though."

"'Bout time!" Allison said and Cody laughed. "Cody Martin is no longer getting attached to his patients like he used to?"  
Cody shrugged and sighed. "I'm working on that," he said.

"Well," said Allison as he stopped at his car. "You have plenty of time."

"That's what I'm hoping," he answered, leaning in to kiss her once again.

And waiting on his answering machine when he got home and had let Buster out was another message from Zack in New York City. Cody would have listened to it, but he didn't want to be late for his date.

**To Be Continued**

_Please review!_


	7. August, 2009: Zack

**A/N**: Sorry for the long delay! I have this thing called school...Anyway, thanks to all the reviewers!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

x x x x x x x x x

"…So the daughter's eighteen, she's been living with an aunt who she _thought_ was her mother, found out differently three weeks ago, and now she's going to be reunited with her mother in a glorious display of _love_ and _forgiveness_?"

Mr. Smith took another sip of his coffee and nodded reminiscently. "Living happily ever after…" he trailed off.

Zack made a face. "Don't you think that's all a bit…Hollywood? I mean, come _on_ there aren't any _issues_?"

"Give the people what they want, Mr. Martin," said Smith airily, tapping the top of Zack's computer with a manila file folder as he turned to walk away. "Get it written, check it over, have it on my desk by six thirty."

Zack blew out his breath and refocused his attention to the unwritten story as his boss traipsed away. His fingers hesitated above the keyboard as he battled with his thoughts for some coherent way to write this article.

"This just in: father miraculously jumps through five foot flames to save stranded son! Story continued in 8D!"

Zack turned in his chair to glare at Charlie who snickered playfully. "Shut up," he said, rolling his eyes. "You're just jealous because I get the bigger paycheck."

"Jealous, right," Charlie laughed again and took a bite out of his plain bagel. "_In awe_ is more like it." His tone turned mocking. "I mean, _you_ sit behind a _hot computer_, _slaving_ away for _hours_ and all because-," he gave a theatrical sniff. "You _refuse_ to let the three of us go home to an empty kitchen."

Zack threw a pen at him. "Like hell I do all this for _you_! I want my name underneath one of these headlines someday-,"

"-Right, so it's for personal _nobility_," Charlie gave a hooting chuckle. "Did I ever tell you you're my hero, Zack?"

Zack grinned slightly, shaking his head and turning back to the still nonexistent story. After a few minutes he sighed. "You're right," he said despondently to Charlie. "This story's about as believable as you graduating college."

"Yeah? Well, in that case I'd say you have an aversion to the truth, Zacko,"

Zack shook his head in good humor despite the unbelievable material he was forced to dictate into a passable human interest story. "Guess I just gotta go with it," he said rather glumly. "Whatever pays the rent, right?"

"Right!" Charlie agreed around the ballpoint pen sticking out of his mouth.

And Zack turned his attention back to the computer.

x x x x x x x x x

Later that night, when Charlie and Zack had been back in the apartment for two hours and were playing a game of Poker with Seth, Charlie got up to grab a can of beer, and offered one to his two roommates.

"I'm good," said Seth, shuffling the deck.

Zack thought for a moment; his headaches had been worse and worse lately, and though none had plagued him at the moment there was still that dull tinge in the back of his mind. A little alcohol to numb the pain? He might as well.

"I'll take one," he called to Charlie. Seth looked at him strangely but said nothing. Zack felt uncomfortable when he took his first swig, but by his fifth the feeling had all but disappeared and he was more than willing to just enjoy the night.

"Oh, hey, man," said Seth to him after another quarter hour. "Your brother called today. Something about sorry he missed your call or whatever."

Zack blinked, gazing over his cards. "Yeah? Hm." He made no move to get up and Charlie snorted.

"Little jealous, are we, of doctor-brother?" he said mockingly.

Zack raised a brow and forced a laugh. "In your dreams," he said childishly. "Why would I want a stressful job and no life when I could have all this?" he gestured around the messy apartment and Seth snickered.

"Because who _wouldn't_ want to be broke in a tiny little apartment in New York City with no girlfriend, no food, and no money for gas?"

Charlie appeared to think the rhetorical question. "An anorexic girl slash gay-guy living in a huge ranch in Colorado with no car and no place to go." He flashed a charming grin and Seth rolled his eyes at Zack.

"You're not gonna call him back?"

Zack shrugged. "I might," he said. Truth was, Cody had failed to call him back nine out of ten times, and Zack had it on good authority from his mother that his twin brother was currently seeing someone, and that someone happened to be a girl who worked at the same hospital.

"You wanna order pizza?" Charlie asked suddenly.

Seth put down a card. "Are pizza's free now?" He asked sarcastically.

Charlie made a face at him. "Dude, like, Zack's loaded, man."

Zack finished off his beer and grinned widely. "Figure I'll buy myself a penthouse and marry Pamela Anderson, actually."

"Is that a two-for-one deal?" Charlie asked, waving a card in the air.

Zack snorted good-naturedly and the three continued their game.

As the month wore on Zack stopped turning down beers and soon he fell into a routine of having three a night. Just three. Never four. The alcohol was relaxing, and because he never drank enough to get drunk the headaches virtually disappeared with no hangover the next morning.

And then he began to take mixed drinks to work with him, so that he could unwind and get his creative juices flowing as he worked on publishing the cheesiest section of the _Times_. Why eat lunch if he could just keep on working with his trusty water bottle? Save himself the money.

Except it didn't quite add up that way. The more he drank, the more he wanted and the more he wanted the more he _spent_ on drinks. Seth occasionally questioned him about it, and Charlie would made nervous jokes every now and again, but Zack felt very strongly in that he was doing what was right for him.

And then, one night in late August, Zack broke his three beer rule. That night he had four, nearly five, and discovered he _liked_ how they made him feel.

Like a little escape route.

He didn't worry about the urges to drink because wine, beer, vodka…they were just beverages. Not _drugs_. No big deal. He'd just made a new little friend, that's all. And it was helping his work, too, he felt a million times more brilliant when he'd had a bit to drink. His job was surviving. He felt great.

The headaches all but disappeared. Or at least, he didn't _feel_ them anymore.

One night as September quickly approached Seth pulled him aside in the Dime. "Haven't you had enough to drink tonight, man? You've got work tomorrow-,"

Zack laughed and pushed him away, taking a long swig out of a glass. "It helps spread the _cre_-_a_-_tivity_," he drawled, slapping his friend loosely on the shoulder.

Seth gazed at him with a look akin to that of concern. "I'm worried about you," he said. "You drink more than you eat sometimes…"

Zack rolled his eyes and laughed loudly. "And _you_ have too much free time," he accused playfully, taking yet another long drink. When his friend's expression didn't change Zack sighed cheerfully. "Don't worry 'bout me," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "I'm good. I'm great! Life is _good_, man, remember? Life is _good_."

x x x x x x x x x

**To Be Continued**

x x x x x x x x x

_Please review!_


	8. September, 2009: Cody

**A/N**: So, yeah, it's definitely been awhile. I won't waste your time with excuses; instead I'll just hope this chapter and that which will follow makes up for my own laziness. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

_When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by_

_If you just smile._

-Smile; Charlie Chaplin

* * *

"Okay: weirdest patient you've ever treated."

Cody made a face, rapping his fingers against the cup of Starbucks coffee and leaning over the edge of the table. Allison was smirking at him, a playful smile on her face as she sipped at her latte.

"Let me think," Cody said, taking a deep breath and smelling the deep blend of his drink as he wrapped his hands around the hot container. Outside the first leaves had begun to fall, dotting the streets in red and yellow and sending chilly breezes through the windy city.

"Well," said Cody finally, once he'd chuckled a little at the memory. "I had this lady once, right," he grinned at her and she returned the expression, eyes alight with untold mirth. "And she-," he laughed a little. "-Her husband had done something to make her angry, or whatever, and she'd made her little Rat Terrier-," he paused, moving his hands to try and demonstrate the size of the animal. "Rat Terrier's are like the size of little-,"

"-I know what Rat Terries are," Allison cut in, nodding. "I have three dogs at home, and I've had them my whole life, so…"

Cody smiled wider. Could she be any more perfect for him? "Yeah," he continued. "So, anyway, her husband's got this big _bruise_ across his forearm and as we're treating it the lady comes back in—and she's a _big_ woman, I mean, we're not talking a twig. She was like, I dunno, like an _oak_-,"

"-_Cody_!" Allison scolded him lightly. "Be _nice_; you sound like a seventh grader for God's sake."

Cody sipped at the coffee mischievously. "Sorry. But she was kind of _scary_, and she comes into this exam room with her _dog_ and is like, shoving it in the poor guy's face like some kind of _machete_, or something." He scratched at his blonde hair. "We had to have security escort her out of the ER. _And_ her dog."

Allison laughed loudly. "Ah, the perils of being a doctor."

Cody shook his head and smiled, draining the rest of the coffee and stretching. It was pushing nine o'clock and he had to be at the hospital at five the next morning.

"I've got to get going," he said almost apologetically. "Early call tomorrow."

Allison nodded, rising as he did the same. "Thank you," she said genuinely. "It's nice to just relax sometimes," they smiled at each other and she stuck out her hand and Cody shook it professionally.

"Any time," he said briskly, shrugging on his jacket and pushing in his chair. "You on call tomorrow?"

"Yeah," said Allison. "Seven thirty."

Cody helped her into her coat and threw away his empty coffee cup. "Then it looks like we both need to get home and get some s_leep_ for once."

Allison smiled gently. "Actually, I think I'm going to stay here for a little," at his puzzled expression she quickly added, "but you go ahead, Cody, I'll be fine."

"You're not going home…?" He let the sentence trail off as she shook her head and continued to smile. He frowned. "All right…" he said, hesitantly making his way over to the door. "If you're sure-,"

"-I'm sure," Allison said, taking another sip of her latte. "I'm just going to do some reading. Not quite ready to go home yet."

"Okay," said Cody, still not all together convinced. "Then I guess I'll see you-?"

"Definitely," Allison assured him, watching him as he half-exited. "We'll have to do this again sometime!" she called out after him.

"I'd love to!" Cody shouted back over his shoulder, but the door had already closed.

* * *

When he'd let Buster out and changed, Cody sunk into his armchair and was about to turn on the news for a few minutes when his telephone rang. He answered it on the second ring with a polite, "Hello?"

"Cody?"

The intern raised a brow as he recognized the voice and quickly straightened up in the chair. "Zack," he said, voice surprised. "How are you?"

"…I dunno."

Cody frowned slightly, switching on another light and putting Channel Seven on mute. "Is something wrong?" His first thought was that something had happened to their mother, but surely he would have already found out…Wouldn't he of?

Zack quickly put his preliminary concerns to rest. "I've been having these…Headaches for the past couple months."

Cody yawned and began to pet Buster who lay curled up at his feet. "Headaches?" On the TV set the president was giving some sort of speech and Cody skimmed the subtitles idly. "What-like, migraine sort of headaches?"

A pause; a shuffle. "Really bad ones," Zack said finally and Cody thought he heard him swallow something. "A few times a week; sometimes more."

"Okay," said Cody, trying to focus and understand his brother. He got up from the chair and walked into the kitchen, Buster at his heels. "Can you tell me the symptoms you've been having with these headaches?"

"Uh," Zack seemed unsure. "I don't know, man, it's sort of a drilling kind of pain-feels like it's digging into my eyes. Dizziness."

"And do you usually have a bad stomach ache afterwards?" Cody tried to think of what the problem might be, but nothing in particular came to mind.

"Sometimes? Maybe? I don't know. I can't remember…"

Cody rubbed a hand over his eyes and blew out his breath. "Have you been experiencing dizziness at other parts of the week? Without the headaches? Any disorientation or sudden bursts of color?"

"Sometimes," said Zack, sounding almost despondent. "When I drink it goes away…Do you think it's something alcohol can cure?"

Cody rolled his eyes childishly and walked over to his wall calendar. "The only thing alcohol 'cures' is a smart man," he said cryptically. "Drinking's definitely not the answer, Zack, and I hope you haven't been thinking it is."

Another long, awkward pause ensued. "So, what? What do I do, Doc.?"

Cody traced his fingers over the upcoming weeks. "Zack, it's just not that simple, okay? You should go to your doctor; have him do some tests, draw some blood…That sort of thing. Then you can determine exactly what's wrong. You know, it could just be a chemical imbalance issue or something requiring treatment-,"

"-You don't think it's, like, brain cancer, do you?"

"_Brain cancer_?" Cody repeated numbly, shaking his head to clear the tiredness that had befallen him. "No, Zack, I highly doubt you have a brain tumor. Go see your doctor and then let me know what the results of the tests are, okay?"  
Buster whined from the doorway and Cody looked at him apologetically. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed…Forget the damn news. It never changed anyway; it was always the same old depressing stuff.

"I don't really have…Insurance, or whatever…" Zack said slowly.

Cody sighed and smothered a yawn. "Look, Zack, I can't do anything to help you over the phone, okay? The ER will take you in for free until you can pay—you have a job, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Zack indignantly, tone slightly offended.

Cody missed the hurt note to his brother's voice. "Alright, so just go to the bank and work something out with them, okay? If you have any other questions just page me. Sound good?"

Zack's tone was rather glum. "Yeah. Sorry for bothering you, bro,"

Cody circled a date on the calendar. "No, no, Zack, it was no trouble. Really. I'm just tired; work's been tough lately." He stopped and watched Buster climb the stairs in dejection. "I was thinking—how about I come up there some time this winter? I haven't seen your place or you in a while. Maybe mom can come, too."

"Come _here_?" Zack sounded nothing short of horrified.

"Yeah…" Cody said, raising a brow. "If that's okay…?"

"Oh," Zack cleared his throat and Cody heard another deep swallow. "Yeah. No. I mean, it's fine. Yeah. No problem. When were you thinking?"

"How about the last week in October?"

"Great!" the journalist's tone was fake sounding and it put Cody on edge, though he said nothing. "Great. Can't wait. Sleep good, Cody." he said abruptly.

"Y-yeah," said Cody, trying to mask the confusion in his voice. What was up with his brother? "You, too, Zack. And good luck with that job!"

"Alright, will do," said Zack, forcing out a laugh. "Same to you, doctor-man!"

Cody wasn't sure how to respond to that so he merely said goodbye, waited for his brother's reply, and hung up the phone.

As he sunk into the deep, warm covers of his bed his mind began to wander to thoughts of his mother, Allison, and whatever was going on with Zack. Reminding himself that he really _did_ need to get some sleep, Cody allowed his mind to rest and fell asleep within minutes.

And miles away in America's biggest city his identical twin sank slowly into a hole of self destruction.

But the young doctor slept, unaware and unconcerned.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

**

* * *

**

_Please review_!


	9. September, 2009: Zack

* * *

**A/N**: Hey, guys! Expect another update tomorrow morning (a joint chapter, with both boys featured) and then another tomorrow night (just in time for Thanksgiving). Thanks for reading, and please review.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

_Mistakes We Knew We Were Making_

New York, New York

September, 2009

* * *

"…Every time I looked at that I wanna puke."

"What are you—ten?"

"_What are you—ten_?"

"Wow, Zack, mimicking? That's pretty low. Even for you."

Zack glared at Seth, downing a beer and pushing away a crinkled newspaper violently. It had recently printed an article he'd written, and while nobody had said anything, Zack found his writing to be complete and utter crap. He folded his arms moodily and slouched in the chair, sighing shortly and furiously.

Seth noticed his frustration and seemed to take pity. "Hey, man," he said reasonably, picking up the paper and looked it over again. "It's not that bad. Hell, it'd be great if they didn't keep giving you these ridiculous stories."

Zack raised his beer in agreement and took another long swig. "Half of those aren't true anyways. And the ones that are really aren't, either, 'cuz they make me change little things so's it turns out more interesting."

Seth yawned widely and stretched as he rose from the table. "Then stop beating yourself up about it and hit the sack. It's long past midnight."  
But Zack shook his head. "You go 'head. I'm just gonna stay up a little longer."

Seth frowned. "No more beer," he said firmly. "You've had enough-,"

"-What, you suddenly my mother?" Zack scowled and set his drink down on the table with unnecessary force. Seth blew out his breath.

"Just looking out for you, Zack," he said calmly but Zack seemed not to hear, let alone care. With one last long look, Seth shook his head and walked off to his room. Left alone at the table, Zack forced himself not to grab another beer; he'd want the last few tomorrow when the Sunday edition printed his miraculous story of a soldiers long lost love.

For a city so caught up in what was going on in the "real world", New York was in its own little universe. Journalism was a sketchy thing at best, and downright scandalous if one was to dig deep enough. But it _was_ New York, and they _were_ living in "Endville". Who needed Manhattan, anyway?

Irony, yet again.

Zack rubbed at his forehead as the lights in the apartment flickered. Charlie was out with a date (or two or five), Seth was probably dead asleep, and the dark was quiet and soothing. He sighed and rested his head in his arms, closing his eyes and pretending he was back in Boston.

He missed it, or at least part of him did. He'd always felt _safe_ there, like he was invincible; king of the world.

New York City was a place for the invincible at heart, but as the months wore on Zack was beginning to question his own heart. Question what he'd thought were his dreams. Question who he thought he was.

Groaning softly, he got up from the table, crossed over to the cooler, and pulled out another beer.

Screw it.

* * *

He wasn't sure what had made him call his brother, but it was ringing and it would look suspicious if he just hung up. He'd had three beers and was contemplating another when someone answered the phone.

A voice. Zack swallowed hard.

"Cody?"

A pause. Zack tried to stop his hands from shaking. "Zack," Cody sounded surprised and Zack tried not to let that get to him. "How are you?"

"…I dunno," Zack blurted out, instantly berating himself.

"Is something wrong?"

_Great_. Now Cody sounded all _concerned_. Zack clenched his fists, angry at himself. "I've been having these…headaches for the past couple a'months."

Cody started asking a bunch of doctor questions Zack found increasingly annoying. Still, he answered each one as best he could and when he related a little fear of his (one he'd never of spilled had he been sober) regarding brain cancer Cody blew it off like it had been some sort of joke.

Nice. Real nice.

Cody proceeded, moving from scoff to mock inquiry regarding Zack's job, insurance, and the possibility of a visit. Zack's heart skipped a beat on that last one; Cody coming to New York wouldn't go over well. It would be humiliating, at best.

And so he couldn't help choking out a few idiotic responses when Cody decided to set a frickin' _date_ for this so-called _visit_.

After he'd hung up he walked over to his bedroom (about the size of the bathroom back at the Tipton suite and kicked aside some clothes, sinking into his bed without changing clothes.

Sunday was his day off, and he intended to spend it the same way he spent every Sunday while his friends went off to do other things.

Drunk.

* * *

He was planning on spending the day being intoxicated, but Charlie and Seth, apparently, had different plans. He'd no sooner woken up than he was nothing short of kidnapped and forced into the elevator.

Charlie and Seth wore identical looks of determination and Zack grew more and more irritated with his friends. Once they left the apartment building, exited Endville, and wound up at a one-stop coffee shop Zack rounded on them.

"What the hell's going on?" he demanded.

Charlie and Seth exchanged glances. Charlie cleared his throat awkwardly and opened his mouth to say something, but Seth beat him to it.

"We just wanted to get you out of the house, man," he said, a hint of an apologetic note in his voice.

"Yeah," said Charlie eagerly. "Since you don't get out anymore."

"What-I get out!" Zack protested glaring at Seth as he grabbed the coffee his friend had taken from the cashier and offered up.

"Ha!" Charlie snorted, rolling his eyes as they pushed open the doors and left the store. "Zacky, you haven't left the apartment since forever, man, except work."

Zack clenched his jaw. "What do you know?" he snapped venomously. "You're always out with some one night stand, like you have any idea what I d-,"

"-Hey, _lay off_, pal-,"

"-Cool it," Seth said condescendingly, coming between them. Charlie shot Zack a look. The continued walking down the sidewalk, dodging the slow elderly and young families. "Look, Zack, we just wanted to get you outside, alright? Stop freaking out; we used to do this all the time, remember?"  
Zack glowered but said nothing.

They spent the day going to Little Italy and sampling different pastas and ducking in to little concert halls. Dignity aside, Zack had to admit that he was having a good time. It felt good to just have _fun_ without the help of booze or the stress of work, and he realized how much he'd missed his friends and hanging out, just the three of them in the Big Apple. During college they'd often done the same thing, but real life had come a' calling and life had changed.

"…So the guy goes, 'I spends all my time _woikin'_ and my wife complains all day about me not bein' _poi'fect_!'" Charlie enjoyed the New York accent to the point where he'd mimic every line he'd spoken in it. He seemed to miss the fact that, slowly, he was starting to take up a bit of the twang himself.

"I hate guys like that," said Seth, lazily reclining back in the restaurant table they sat in. "Guys who complain all about their wives all day. They need to get a life."

Zack snorted. "_You_ need to get a life, man," he said in good-humor. "You don't even have a _job_, Seth."

Seth puffed up indignantly. "I'm looking, alright?"

Charlie snickered. "Because the TV is just _dripping_ with employment opportunities," he said sarcastically, bumping fists with Zack.

Seth rolled his eyes and grinned a little. "One of these days," he said slowly, reminiscently. "I'm moving to downtown Manhattan. Somehow I'll get the cash-,"

"Right, okay, whatever you say, man," Zack and Charlie laughed at their friend who waved them off with a knowing smile.

He was having so much fun, Zack found it easy to ignore the small ache that had started to snake up from his temples.

But his ability to disregard it would soon fade into a despondent nonexistence.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

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* * *

**

_Please review!_


	10. October, 2009: Cody

**A/N**: Sorry for wait! Hope you all had a nice Holiday!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

_

* * *

_

_Mistakes We Knew We Were Making_

Chicago, Illinois

October, 2009

* * *

"Trick or treat!"

"Well, what do we have here?" Cody swung open his door (nudging Buster away as he did so) and held out a big orange bowl of candy. The little ghost and Power Ranger on his doorstep both grabbed a handful in, dropping their treasures into pillow cases.

"Happy Halloween!" they shouted in thanks as they rejoined their fathers at the end of the driveway.

Cody smiled reminiscently and shut the door gently behind them. He had Billy Joel classics playing softly and the little house glowed warmly. Buster barked and sat up pretty, tail wagging furiously.

The intern smirked, feigning confusion as he looked at his dog. "What, boy?" he asked innocently. The Golden Retriever whined and gave him the infamous puppy dog look. Cody shook his head. "Not gonna work this time, Bus'," he said in mock seriousness. Buster rolled over on his back and preformed a trick he'd learned in obedience school, looking expectantly at his master.

A few moments later Cody caved and went to the kitchen to grab his dog a Milkbone. He'd no sooner tossed it to Buster when the doorbell rang again and he hurried into the foyer to answer it.

Holding the candy bowl out yet again he opened the door and prepared to act scared by the little kid's costumes. Before he could comment, however, he drew up short as he saw who stood behind his door.

"Allison!" he said in surprise.

She grinned up at him, long hair hidden underneath a black newsboy hat. "Boo!" she called out, reaching up to hug him.

He returned her embrace and led her inside the house. "I didn't know you were coming over,"

She shrugged as she stepped inside. "I set out a bowl with a sign that says "take one" and high-tailed it over here." She smiled as she bent down to greet Buster. "Thought I'd spend some time with you, if that's alright…?"

Cody grinned boyishly and closed the door. "Definitely is," he assured her, leading her into the kitchen. 'You want something to drink?"

Allison politely stood behind him. "Water's fine," she said.

Cody filled two glasses of tap water and the two of them sat down in his family room. Buster, overjoyed at the sudden company, lay at their feet.

"You on duty tomorrow?" asked Cody.

Allison nodded. "I'm observing my first C-section," he looked impressed and she nodded nervously. "And I'm terrified Dr. Wang is going to ask me to help."

Cody took a sip wisely. "Dr. Walker had me help with an emergency surgery about a month ago," he laughed reminiscently. "I was terrified."

Allison groaned and adjusted her cap. "I'm starting to think I may just want to be a nurse," she said, reaching down to stroke Buster's head.

Cody looked at her in surprise. "Seriously?" he asked her. Allison nodded. "That's a big change," he said in reaction.

"But I think it may be the smartest way to go," she said and he got the impression she was no longer talking directly to him, but more to herself. He sat back, though, and listened intently. "I'd like to start a family in the next few years," she looked at him carefully. "How about you?"

If there was any implicated hidden meaning to her question Cody completely missed it as he shrugged casually. "Some day, for sure," he said honestly.

She stared at him and he began thinking he'd missed something.

Buster whined, breaking the slightly awkward silence. A moment later the doorbell rang and Cody leapt to his feet.

Allison sighed from her position on the couch, and more candy was handed over to the pails of hungry children.

* * *

As Cody and his girlfriend continued talking (well into the third hour and past the curfew of the trick-or-treating), his cell phone rang almost constantly in the kitchen. He'd turned it on vibrate at work and had forgotten to adjust the ring tone.

It went unanswered and unacknowledged for hours and Cody would later find three unheard messages; one of which was from his mother, another from his brother, and yet another from his old friend Tapeworm.

"Hi, Cody, it's mom," said the first message. "You're probably busy with work, but I just wanted to talk to you. I was hoping maybe the three of us could get together for Thanksgiving and I wanted to find out your schedule. Not too busy for your old mom, are you? I haven't been able to get through to Zack. Have you talked to him recently? Anyway, just call me back when you get the chance, and have a Happy Halloween. Love you, baby."

"Hey, Code'. It's Zack." was the second message. "Look, man-I know I, uh, I know that we'd talked about you coming to New York, or whatever, soon, like, I think next week, was it? But see, the thing is I think I'm, uh, gonna be real busy with work and stuff, you know? And I mean, we're doing something with mom for Thanksgiving, right? So I'll see you then. Okay. Just wanted to let you know. How's the doctor thing going? Guess you're really busy, huh? Yeah. I mean, so am I, obviously. Right. Okay. Talk to you later, man."

"Cody, it's Tom. Tapeworm, remember?" started the third. "It's been awhile and I wanted to see what you were up to. Still an intern? Hey, you remember Melanie? We just had our first kid, her and me. A little girl; name's Sarah. We're getting married this Spring and I want you there, man. Call me back when you get the chance. Happy Halloween!"

All three messages remained unknown until late that night.

And even then, one was deleted accidentally.

Perhaps the one that meant the most.

* * *

Three weeks later, as November continued in full swing, Cody pulled Allison aside during a break at the hospital. Both wore scrubs, though Allison failed to see how the receptionists, lingering EMTs, and even a few knowledgeable patients were eagerly watching the two as they met.

"I have a question to ask you, Allison," said Cody quietly, reaching into his short lab coat and wrapping his fingers around a small square package.

Allison looked mildly curious, checking her watch briefly. "What is it?"

Judy the receptionist exchanged a smiling look with a fellow co-worker. Cody took a deep breath and crossed his fingers momentarily. Trembling slightly, he went down to one knee and took one of her hands in his own.

"Allison," he started, voice shaking and eyes glittering. She seemed to sense where it was all going and slowly her mouth formed a gentle "oh" shape. Cody gave her a nervous smile and took a sparkling ring out of the box in his pocket.

"Will you marry me?"

The onlookers cheered and the ER, usually so intense and serious, seemed to become a glowing world that centered around two young interns in love. Allison stared at the ring, and tears sprung to her eyes. She looked breathlessly at Cody who bit his lip anxiously.

"Yes," she said, laughing a little as she nodded. "Yes, Cody, I'll marry you."

And as he placed the ring on her finger, straightened, and kissed he passionately he felt a source of completion. He felt giddy and excited; and thought that if he was to go to the edge of Sears Tower he might even be able to fly.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

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* * *

**

_Please review!_


	11. October, 2009: Zack

**A/N**: Sorry for the wait! Please note that the last scene in this chapter actually takes place in November. Enjoy the chapter!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

_

* * *

_

Mistakes We Knew We Were Making

New York, New York

October, 2009

* * *

"Okay, you know what? I _quit_."

"You said that last week."

"Yeah? Well I mean it this time-,"

"-You said _that_ last week, too."

Charlie scowled and glared at his computer screen. Zack smiled sympathetically and backed up his chair so that he sat next to his friend. He took one look at the blank document on the screen and snorted.

"Come on, Charlie," he said fairly. "You've got a perfectly good story-,"

Charlie laughed sarcastically. "Oh, yeah, 'cuz who _doesn't_ want to read about Brooklyn's newest pizzeria? They already _have_ a billion!"

"Oh, come on," Zack tried to reason with him, smirking all the while. "It could be a lot worse. This is at least more, um, interesting than that one you had to write about the road construction…"

Charlie thought this over and nodded slightly in agreement. "True," he said.

Zack had opened his mouth to say something else to his frustrated roommate when another voice cut off his reply.

"Martin!"

Zack immediately scooted back over to his desk as his boss approached, looking harried. "I just got word of a new story—a real good one—and it's gotta be written by deadline." He bent down closer to Zack and lowered his voice, tone urgent. "Listen to me, kid; it's _very_ impo'tant that this makes tomorrow's paper, you hear?" Zack nodded obediently and the boss grinned. "Great, that's great. I knew I could trust ya, kid. I'll have Katie send it right over."

Zack watched him meander away, still smiling slightly in anticipation. It'd been a slow day, and so far he'd only written one article (a rather dry piece on the importance of fire escapes in history).

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Two hours until deadline. Zack frowned slightly; he hadn't realized that it was that late already. He cracked his knuckles, loosening his fingers for the tirade of typing they were going to have to endure in the very near future. He was already starting to write the heading when Charlie cut in.

"Looks like he's got you staying here all night, eh?"

Zack shrugged, not looking away from his screen. His fingers itched in eagerness. "Nah. Deadline's in two hours—shouldn't take me that long to write it."

Charlie clicked his tongue. "Don't speak so soon," he said jokingly. "This could be the Story of the Year, you never know."

Zack rolled his eyes and looked up at his friend. "Yeah, right up there with your pizza and construction stories, I'm sure."

Charlie feigned offence. "Ouch," he said, smirking. "Don't work too late, Oscar, or I'll sick Big Bird on you." He wiggled his eyebrows for effect.

Zack waved a file folder at him and turned his attention back to the computer screen. "Tell Seth where I'm at, alright? I'll go back as soon as I can."

"Yeah, yeah," said Charlie, already packing up his stuff and starting to walk away. "Wouldn't want to tear you away from your "dream job"."

"Exactly," Zack agreed.

"Don't get too crazy," said Charlie instead of goodbye, closing the doors to the office firmly behind him.

Three minutes later Zack received the story he was to write.

And then he got to work.

* * *

The phone was ringing but neither Seth nor Charlie moved to answer it. Charlie was in the shower and thus had an excuse, but Seth refused to silence the noise out of pure and utter laziness.

He was lounging on the couch and reading over some magazine he'd bought for a quarter. After some fierce internal debating, Seth finally succumbed to his conscience and responsibility and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he said, voice bored.

"Hello?" echoed the voice on the other end. Seth made a confused face—he'd expected the caller to be Zack (who was still M.I.A. five minutes after Charlie said deadline was) but instead the voice he heard was that of a woman. "Can I please speak to Zack? This is his mother."

Realization dawned on Seth's face and he resisted the urge to laugh out loud. "Oh, hi," he said somewhat awkwardly. "He's actually not here right now; he's, um, he's working." He paused and contemplated saying more. "He should be home soon."

Zack's mother sighed on the other end. "Oh, okay," she said politely, sounding disappointed. "It's just I-I haven't talked to him in so long and…Well, just-just tell him I sent the money for rent yesterday in the mail. It should get there by Monday—when is it due, exactly?"

"What?" Seth said dumbly. Zack had asked for _money_?

"The rent--when's it due?"

He frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "We just paid it last Thursday," he said baldly. "Are you sure that's what he said the money was for?"

"Very sure," said Zack's mother. "Maybe he meant to use it next month…?"

Seth was terribly confused, but opted at the last moment not to tell the woman that they'd already paid for the next three months worth of rent and (thanks to Zack and Charlie's jobs) even had a bit of money to spare.

"Probably," he said instead.

"Just tell him I say hi, then," said Zack's mother.

"Okay, I'll do that," said Seth and they hung up.

He sniffed (darn colds) and wiped at his nose before resuming his position on the couch. He yawned widely and loudly and stretched his arms back, sprawling out comfortably. Charlie came out of the bathroom (hair still wet) and walked over.

"Who was that?" he asked his roomy, nodding at the phone.

"Zack's mom," replied Seth with a touch of humor. He was unable to contain a slight smirk and Charlie returned the expression just as their door sudden slammed open and Zack walked inside.

"Hey, man," Charlie called out, humor in his voice. "Make the deadline?"

Zack snorted and joined them on the couch. "Yeah, we made it," he said, voice bitter-sounding. "It was about _politics_. Stupid upcoming elections."

"I thought you were in human interest?"

"I am," Zack clarified as Seth looked at him in confusion. The journalist rolled his eyes. "Apparently the mayor's a darn good friend with the ole' editor."

Charlie snickered and Seth shook his head. "Typical," he said darkly.

"I hate this job," said Zack darkly as he collapsed back on the sofa.

With a scowl, Charlie whacked him in the head. "And this is from the guy who wouldn't let me quit this morning," he said, rolling his eyes good naturedly.

Zack groaned and covered his face with his hands. "All I'm doing is writing down the opinions of ass-holes who do nothing but sit around and get drunk."

Seth shrugged sympathetically. "Gotta start somewhere," he said optimistically. Zack pulled his hands away from his eyes and shot him a glare.

"I don't see _you_ with a job," he retorted. Seth sighed, not one to get riled up.

"Hey, you know what, Zacko?" said Charlie loudly from the kitchen. He held up a beer in one hand and smirked. "Some guy once told me that to, uh, defeat your enemy you gotta _understand_ them."

Seth looked at him with a languid sort of pity but Zack slowly began to grin.

"Just what I've always wanted," he joked, standing and grabbing a drink from Charlie and raising it up as if toasting someone or something. "To be an alcoholic asshole!"

Charlie and Zack laughed and clinked glasses, but Seth didn't join in.

Outside it started to rain.

* * *

An hour later none of the three roommates, miraculously, were drunk (though Charlie would have proceeded towards that point had Seth not put his socked foot down). Zack sat at the kitchen table and penned in some crossword puzzle as Seth heated something up for a late dinner.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, man," he said as he waited for something to heat up. Zack finished writing _Robin Williams_ and looked up. "Your mom called today."

"Yeah?" Zack set down the pen, curious. "What'd she say?"

Seth sat down with his makeshift grilled cheese and took a bite out of the sandwich. "She sent us money for rent."

Zack's face instantly paled and he ran a hand through his blonde hair. He cursed under his breath and Seth looked at him strangely.

"Zack," he said slowly. "We already paid for the next three months."

Zack looked at him sharply. "Did you tell her that?" he demanded.

Seth shot him a look and took another bite. "No," he said around the food.

Zack breathed a sigh of relief and cleared his throat. "The money's for that headache medication." He paused and looked guiltily at his friend. "I don't want her to find out I've been having headaches so I told her it was for, you know, for the rent." Seth laughed a little and shook his head.

"You _lied_ to your _mother_?"

Zack winced and smirked a little. "It's just fifty dollars," he said. "I told her I had the rest and I'll be able to pay her back when I see her at Thanksgiving."

Seth nodded and finished off the rest of his sandwich. "You should those checked, man," he said, mouth full. "With a doctor or something."

Zack snorted. "I think I'll pass," he said with an eye-roll.

Seth started to say something but his words were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. The two exchanged looks before Zack rose up to answer it, figuring it was one of Charlie's girlfriends or something. He was less than concerned that his blonde hair tousled and messy and dressed in nothing but sweatpants, an old t-shirt, and socks. He pulled open the door and staggered back in surprise as he saw who it was.

"_Cody_?"

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Please review_!

* * *


	12. November, 2009: Part I

**A/N**: Another long wait in between. I've been busy. Traffic's been miles long. School's been annoying. Life moves fast, but everything else moves slow ;). This is PART ONE, and PART TWO should be up tomorrow or this weekend. This story's so much fun to write.

Thanks to all who keep reviewing!

**Geographical Note**: Tribeca is where Zack, Seth, and Charlie currently reside. It's located in Mahattan and is kind of between Soho and Broadway. It's a newer area with newer neighborhoods and especially popular with singles ;). Just a little FYI :).

**Discalimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

Mistakes We Knew We Were Making

New York, New York

* * *

An hour later none of the three roommates, miraculously, were drunk (though Charlie would have proceeded towards that point had Seth not put his socked foot down). Zack sat at the kitchen table and penned in some crossword puzzle as Seth heated something up for a late dinner.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, man," he said as he waited for something to heat up. Zack finished writing _Robin Williams_ and looked up. "Your mom called today."

"Yeah?" Zack set down the pen, curious. "What'd she say?"

Seth sat down with his makeshift grilled cheese and took a bite out of the sandwich. "She sent us money for rent."

Zack's face instantly paled and he ran a hand through his blonde hair. He cursed under his breath and Seth looked at him strangely.

"Zack," he said slowly. "We already paid for the next three months."

Zack looked at him sharply. "Did you tell her that?" he demanded.

Seth shot him a look and took another bite. "No," he said around the food.

Zack breathed a sigh of relief and cleared his throat. "The money's for that headache medication." He paused and looked guiltily at his friend. "I don't want her to find out I've been having headaches so I told her it was for, you know, for the rent." Seth laughed a little and shook his head.

"You _lied_ to your _mother_?"

Zack winced and smirked a little. "It's just fifty dollars," he said. "I told her I had the rest and I'll be able to pay her back when I see her at Thanksgiving."

Seth nodded and finished off the rest of his sandwich. "You should those checked, man," he said, mouth full. "With a doctor or something."

Zack snorted. "I think I'll pass," he said with an eye-roll.

Seth started to say something but his words were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. The two exchanged looks before Zack rose up to answer it, figuring it was one of Charlie's girlfriends or something. He was less than concerned that his blonde hair tousled and messy and dressed in nothing but sweatpants, an old t-shirt, and socks. He pulled open the door and staggered back in surprise as he saw who it was.

"_Cody_?"

His brother stood in the doorway. His blonde hair was short and (though slightly windblown) was dramatically neater than Zack's. He was a bit taller than his brother, too, and wearing a clean navy shirt, khakis, and a brown leather belt. In one hand he held a black duffel bag and in the other a cell phone. He smiled politely at Zack, taking in his brother's messy appearance with a faint eye raise that smoothly disappeared in a moment.

"Hey, Zack," he said, voice warm.

Seth peeked around his roommate's shoulder, eyes wide. Zack gaped for another full second before coming to his senses with a hasty blink.

"What are you _doing_ here?" he demanded. He didn't mean to sound rude, but this visit was completely random, completely awkward, and completely inconvenient.

Cody's smile barely faltered. "You don't remember?" His voice took on a humorous tone. "We agreed on a date a few months ago. The last week of November?" When Zack exchanged a bewildered look with Seth, Cody continued on, sounding less confident. "Yeah, I tried to give you guys a call several times this week but nobody answered so I figured we were still on."

Seth let out a small snorting chuckle and Zack elbowed him.

"I-uh-well…" Zack spluttered, clearing his throat and suddenly wishing he was wearing _anything_ rather than what he was currently donning. "You wanna come-uh-come in?"

Cody nodded brightly and stepped inside the apartment. It was messy (as usual) and clothes, books, newspapers, CDs, magazines, socks, shoes...Everything and its brother (literally) seemed to be out of place and in the way.

If Cody cared, he didn't show it, simply setting down his suitcase near the doorway and standing respectfully near the coat closet. Seth shot Zack an amused look and stuck out his hand. "Hey," he said casually. "Seth."

"Cody," said Cody courteously, shaking the offered hand and smiling. "Are you and Zack roommates?"

"Yeah," said Zack, cutting in with a significant look at his friend. Seth blinked, clueless for a moment before nodding quickly and smirking. "Hey, Cody…" said Zack slowly, thinking quickly. "You ever seen Tribeca at night?"

"Well, just from the taxi-,"

"-Then you haven't seen the best of it," Zack said, falsely cheerful. He through on a sweatshirt and slammed his feet into sneakers. Draping an arm around his twin's shoulder he guided him out towards the door, nearly shoving him out in the hall. "Go wait by the stairs, okay? The elevator's a piece of shit." Cody gave him a strange look but obliged, and Zack immediately stuck his head back into the apartment.

"Clean this place up!" he hissed to Seth who was leaning against the counter smugly. Zack looked pleadingly at him. "Come _on_, man!" he whispered urgently. "Hide the booze, put all our crap away, if Charlie's got any weed hide that, too!" When Seth started to groan lazily Zack cut him off fiercely. "Wake Charlie up to help! This is my _brother_, man, okay, I gotta-,"

"Zack? Are you coming or-,"

"-One sec.!" Zack gave Seth a begging glance and his friend sighed in a bored defeat.

"Fine," said Seth mincingly. "But you owe me big time."

"I'll be back in forty five minutes," Zack assured him. "Thanks, man!"

And with that he closed the door, hurried over to the stairs, and escorted his brother down the stairs and out into the dark, Manhattan streets.

* * *

"Did you forget I was coming?" 

The two of them were sitting in a little coffee shop, both with tall cups in front of them. Cody kept looking over his shoulder and glancing nervously at people walking by or passing through while Zack tried to underplay the disaster scene his brother had walked in on.

"No," said Zack, laughing as though this was an absolutely ridiculous thing to say. He took a drink of coffee and sighed as though relaxed. "Nah, I just thought, you know, we said October and uh, today's technically November-,"

"-I've been busy," Cody said apologetically.

"Right," Zack lied. "I figured you weren't coming so I didn't, you know, prepare or-,"

"I had every intention of coming up here last weekend, actually," Cody replied briskly, taking a small sip of his drink. Zack saw him fight back a wince and smirked slightly—they made the drinks strong in this neck of the woods. "But, um, well…" a smile slowly formed on his face and he cleared his throat as if preparing to share big news.

"What?" Zack pressed, taking another large gulp of the espresso.

"Um," said Cody, smiling widely down at the table. "I'm getting married."

Zack nearly choked on his drink; setting down the cup with a large _plop_ he turned wide eyes to his brother. "_What_?"

Cody was still grinning as he nodded rather idiotically. "Yeah, I met this girl a few months back…Her name's Allison and she's…Well…She's amazing, Zack, really amazing. It's like…I can't even describe it. She works at the same hospital as I do and-,"

"-Whoa, whoa, whoa," Zack held up a hand, face comically confused. "You work at a _hospital_?"

Cody blinked and managed to take a slightly larger drink. "I think we've got some catching up to do," he said, laughing a little.

Zack nodded and snickered. "You go first," he insisted.

* * *

"It's a little too late for SoHo or Broadway…Unless you're into getting mugged, or something…" 

Cody laughed, albeit nervously, and he and Zack continued up the street. The wind had started blowing and it was chilly out. They finally reached the apartment complex and Zack led his twin up the stairs, crossing his fingers that the actually apartment was looking dramatically cleaner. He opened the door with his key and cautiously stepped inside.

This time, Zack noticed with relief, things were looking much neater. Cody seemed to notice, too, and Zack saw him bite back a smirk. The two walked into the family room and found Seth and Charlie playing a game of checkers.

Oh, yeah. _Exceedingly_ natural. Two twenty-three-year-old guys in a New York apartment at nine forty two P.M. playing _checkers_.

"Uh, guys," said Zack awkwardly as they both turned to look at him. Cody stepped forward a bit shyly. "This is my brother, Cody."

Seth nodded and Cody returned the gesture, but Charlie leapt up exuberantly and slapped Cody on the back. "Welcome to NYC!" he declared. Cody smiled politely and nodded again. "Zack never said anything about you coming-," Zack shot him a look and Charlie broke off. "But hey. We're always looking for company."

"Glad to hear it," Cody said gratefully.

After another hour or so of just hanging out, Charlie and Seth made to head up to bed and Cody expressed an interest in turning in, as well. Zack whistled sheepishly under his breath as he thought over where his brother was going to stay. It wasn't a very _large_ apartment—Seth and Charlie were already sharing a room and Zack's space was more like a closet.

"You can have my room," he decided after a minute of thinking it over. Cody immediately started to protest but Zack had none of it. "Dude," he said practically. "You're the guest, man. You take my room and I'll crash on the couch. No big deal."

Cody gave him eventually and just as he was about to close the door and call it a night, he peeked his head out. "Hey, Zack," Zack looked up. "Thanks,"

"Forget about it," said Zack good-naturedly. "Least I could do."

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Please review!

* * *

_


	13. November, 2009: Part II

**A/N**: This is definitely a light-hearted chapter and that's mainly because a.) I'm in a good mood and b.) the next few will be rather dark.

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_, nor do I own the lyrics from Black Sabbath's _Heaven and Hell_.

* * *

New York, New York

November, 2009

* * *

A stereo blasted from a little apartment in south Tribeca.

_Well if it seems to be real, its illusion  
for every moment of truth, there's confusion in life  
Love can be seen as the answer, but nobody bleeds for the dancer  
and it's on and on, on and on and on...  
_

"ON AND ON AND ON AND ON AND ON….!"

"Charlie, turn that thing _down_-,"

"-WELL IF IT SEEMS TO BE REAL IT'S ILLUUUUUSION-,"

"-Charlie! Turn that _down_, you Godforsaken _Neanderthal-_,"

"FOOL, FOOL, FOOL!"

"CHARLIE!"

Something yanked out the cord and Black Sabbath immediately ceased their ageless music. Charlie scowled at the perpetrator, but Zack (an offender if there ever was one) simply rolled his eyes and refocused on his work.

"You know what? You really should quit your job," Charlie said grumpily, dropping the broom he'd been using to mimic Ozzy and dropping down on the couch with a disgruntled sigh. "It's turning you into my _mother_."

"Don't be even more of an idiot, man; you know I've always wanted to be a balding, sixty-four year old stripper-,"

His insult was cut off sharply by a jab to the gut thanks to his roommate's sudden onslaught of feathery assault.

Just as Zack had jumped back so as to compensate for the battle advantage the dying sofa gave his roommate the door to the apartment opened and Seth walked inside, carrying two grocery bags and a stack of mail.

When he caught site of his two buddies hitting each other mercilessly with pillows he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and slowly shook his head as he set down the bags he carried.

"Great," he called out to them from the kitchen. "Let me just call in the Babysitter's Club for some help!"

Charlie laughed as he and Zack cut out the games and made more of a noticeable effort to at least _attempt_ acting their own age. "Aw, Seth, you're no fun, you know that?"

Zack chimed in as the two meandered into the messy kitchen. "Yeah," he agreed. "You're starting to sound like Charlie's mother."

Charlie groaned and offered a "shut up, man", as Seth said, "Zack, you got a letter today."

Zack took the outstretched envelope and quickly flipped it over to read the return address.

**Mr. Cody James Martin**

**1818 Blue Born Ct.**

**Chicago, ILL.**

**60201**

"It's from my brother," he informed his waiting roommates as he clumsily tore open the envelope and removed the crisp white letter inside. He had an inkling of what he was about to read and, sure enough, he was right.

_You are cordially invited to the wedding of_

Mr. Cody Martin and Ms. Allison Reynolds

_To be taking place_

_February 22nd, 2010!_

Zack didn't both reading over the specifics on the back as he grabbed a spare magnet on the refrigerator and tacked the invite up (half-covering a picture of Charlie's left index finger in the upper corner of a cover story photo taken two months previous) briskly.

"Geez," said Charlie lowly as he squinted to read what the notice said. "They're not waiting long, are they? Who ever heard of a February wedding?"

Zack snorted and whacked him upside in the head. "I would expect nothing more from the son of a mother like yours-,"

Again, Charlie resorted to physical means of argument and Zack barely managed to dodge the paper cup that suddenly came hurdling his way.

"I'm happy for him," Zack decided a few minutes later as the three of them were preparing dinner. "He's finally got himself a woman."

Seth passed him a knife to cut the ham for their sandwiches. "You're not even _slightly_ jealous of him…?"

Zack snorted. "No," he insisted. "I don't want that whole "American Dream" thing he's got going on. Like, you know, a good job, a good wife, two kids and a Golden Retriever? Not for me."

Charlie seemed to find this immensely hilarious and he slapped Zack on the back excitedly, causing Zack to miss with the knife and nick the plastic countertop.

"And you're planning on spending the rest of your life broke in New York with Charlie?" Seth asked skeptically, brows raised.

"Well, I'm just waiting for the day he brings his mom home-,"

"-YOU _KNOW_ WHAT!"

And feathers snowed upon the little apartment in the big city.

* * *

Boston, Massachusetts

Thanksgiving, 2009

* * *

"Careful with the turkey—_careful_ with the turkey, Zack!"

"Mom, I got it, okay? I know how to carry a platter-,"

"-Watch it, watch it! _Slowly_, honey, put it down _slowly_!"

Zack rolled his eyes but complied as he gently set down the big plate heavy with sliced turkey. He was back in the Tipton Suite and home for Thanksgiving. He'd driven down in Seth's old Chevy the night before and was now helping his mother set up for dinner in time for the arrival of Cody and, perhaps more importantly, the much-anticipated Allison.

"Now we just need to put out the candles…Let's see, did I forget anything?" His mother analyzed the table critically. She'd let her hair grow a bit longer and it lay in blonde ringlets around her shoulders. "Stuffing, mashed potatoes, squash, vegetables, cranberry sauce, rolls…Oh! The _fruit salad_!"

She hurried back into the kitchen and Zack heard her bustle about as though the missing dish were one of great and monument us importance. As Carey came dashing back into the main room (where the table had been extended) with the bowl of fruit and cream there was a knock at the door.

Zack and his mom exchanged excited looks before she ran quick hands through her hair and checked her teeth in the mirror strategically placed in the front entrance. Zack leaned against the table, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans.

He'd combed his hair that morning (for once), so that it lay long and straight around his face. He'd donned his finest shirt (a red and grey stripped long-sleeved polo) and wore his leather shoes. He needed to measure up next to his brother.

Carey opened the door wide with a cheerful "hel_lo_!" and voices happy in greeting broke through the gentle Frank Sinatra music playing in the background. Zack forced himself not to crane his neck to get a good look at Allison (she'd be there all through dinner, after all), and instead maintained his "cool" posture.

"Oh, Cody! You look so _grown up_! And this must be _Allison_! It's so nice to finally _meet you_ after all Cody's said about you!"

Cody gave his mom a warm hug before hanging his coat up on the convenient coat rack and smiling over at Zack who returned the expression. Cody wore khaki slacks and a navy blue suit jacket over a black shirt, but Zack didn't notice that nearly as much as he noticed the newest addition to their family.

Allison he would see at last!

She hugged Carey and looked exceedingly happy to be where she was. Her dark red hair was long and straight, and she wore a sophisticated black dress underneath a stylish (or at least what Zack _considered_ to be stylish) blue jacket.

"Hey, man, how's it going?" Cody held out his hand and pulled his brother into a quick hug.

"Pretty good, pretty good," said Zack casually, nodding over his twin's shoulder. "That her?"

Cody grinned once proudly before motioning for his fiancé. Carey came to stand next to Zack and he briefly saw her beaming. "Mom, Zack," said Cody (and Zack noticed with a small smirk that his voice had gone significantly deeper). "I'd like you to meet Allison."

Carey and Cody's future wife smiled again at each other and Zack offered his hand. "Nice to meet you," he said, pleasant and polite. "I'm Zack."

She took his hand. "I've heard so much about you!" She looked cheerfully at her fiancé. "Cody's told me so much about you guys as kids."

Zack laughed charmingly. "All good things, I hope?"

Allison laughed, too. "Of course," she said.

After a few more minutes they all sat down to have dinner. Conversation went from careers to the weather to New York and Chicago to the wedding to the weather to childhoods to ambitions to the weather to Buster the dog to the New York _Times_ to the weather to medicine and then eventually to the weather.

"…But really, at this point, I'm trying to decide what the most practical choice would be, you know?" Allison was saying in response to one of Carey's questions. "I could pursue my higher degrees and practice as a certified doctor or I could take another year of schooling and get my RN degree. It really depends on _our_ plans," she finished with an affectionate look at Cody.

"That's wonderful," Carey said wistfully. "Wonderful…"

Cody wiped his lips with his napkin and looked at Zack. "How's your job going?" he asked politely.

Zack quickly swallowed a rather enormous bite of mashed potatoes soaked in gravy and cleared his throat. "Good," he said honestly. "You know…Just doing my thing and stuff. Paying the rent," he laughed and they returned the sentiment.

Allison turned to him as though interested. "You work for the _New York Times_ right?" she clarified. He nodded. "That must be fascinating."

"Oh, yeah," Zack lied. "It really is."

Carey waited a moment before patting Cody's knee. "So how much longer do you think it will be before you're a practicing pediatrician?"

Cody shrugged modestly. "Of school? About two and a half to three. If I stay in the hospital I'm at then I'm almost guaranteed a job, which is terrific."

Zack soon lost interest (they'd had this exact conversation at least five times during the course of the meal) and focused on finishing the remains of the food on his plate. He couldn't stop thinking about Seth's question, and he wondered if he maybe was a bit…Jealous, or something.

Suddenly out of nowhere a sharp pain rapped against his skull and he winced as he dropped his fork with a loud _clatter_ against his plate. Gulping thickly he sucked in a shaky breath and raised a hand to hold his temples.

"Zack?"

He looked up to his mother, Cody, and Allison looking at him in concern. He swallowed again and forced himself to act his way out of their worry.

"Sorry," he said with a fake grin. His head was throbbing and it was all he could do not to cry out in pain. "Clumsy, I guess."

"You okay?" Cody frowned at him. "You look a little pale…"

A warning bell went off in Zack's head and the ache intensified. "Stomach ache," he said quickly. "Guess I ate too fast." He moved his hand from his temple to his belly reluctantly. "I'm just gonna go use the bathroom real fast…"

He quickly got up from the table and forced himself not to run inside the restroom. Once inside he locked the door and slid down against the way, hands cradling his head and biting his bottom lip so hard he tasted blood.

After five minutes of silent agony and dizzy vertigo a knock sounded at the door. Zack winced at it and tried to rack his spinning brain for ideas.

"Zack?"

It was Cody.

"You okay?"

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_PLEASE review_?

* * *

NEXT: Zack faces a deadly foe.


	14. November 2009: Part III

**A/N**: Okay, another chapter. Was I a bit mean with the last chapter's cliffhanger? I went a bit easier this time. But, like I said, the mood of the story just went a few shades darker...

**Dedication**: This chapter is dedicated first and foremost to all reviewers, but secondly to Shy of Silence who updated her brilliant story _The Deadliest Secret_ (read it--it's amazing!!) and to whom I owe an update to; and to warriors-icefire who PMed me to remind me to keep my promise and update this story. Thanks to you all!

* * *

Boston, Massachusetts

November, 2009

9:19 p.m.

* * *

"Cody, relax, I'm sure everything's fine."

_Tick, tock, tick tock_.

"Cody, please, you're making me nervous."

_Tick, tock, tick tock_.

"Just-just sit down, alright? They'll tell us when they know something."

_Tick, tock, tick tock_.

"Cody, honestly; you're going to be a doctor! You of all people should-,"

"Allison, shut _up_!"

He stopped his pacing and glared at her, nostrils flaring and chest close to heaving. His blonde hair was messy from nearly an hour of shoving it back nervously, and his hazel eyes were wild.

His fiancé sighed and stood. Her expression was one of hurt and Cody wanted to kick himself when he saw it.

Never…Never had he yelled at her before.

He'd always been gentle and patient and loving, and she'd always been playful and confident and kind and they-they'd never-they hadn't ever been in a situation where he would feel that it was necessary to raise his voice.

But this was about Zack.

This was about his brother.

And it could very well get serious.

They'd been there, at the local hospital, for about half an hour. Cody had found Zack in some kind of disabling pain in the locked bathroom and had consequently told his mother to call 911 in his panic.

Zack had been gripping his head and trying hard not to scream, and it had terrified Cody. Scared him to the point of being frozen.

He dealt with patients every day, but never had the patient been his own brother…Never had the patient been the person he cared for more than almost everyone else in the world…Never had he been the one saving the life, with no one behind his back telling him what to do and when to do it…

"Martin family?"

Cody snapped to attention, wishing suddenly and fervently that his mother would hurry up and get back from the bathroom. Allison, who'd been turning to give her fiancé some space moved closer to him instead, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly as a needed source of comfort.

The doctor was an older man and he seemed gracious enough as he smiled and introduced himself as being Dr. Montgomery. "Mr. Martin suffered from what is commonly known as a Migraine. We gave him some medication and he's fine now, a bit shaky, but very stable."

Cody blinked. "Excuse me?"

Allison squeezed his hand tighter in warning, recognizing the underlying tone to his words and alarmed by it. Cody ignored her. His brother was more important.

Dr. Montgomery frowned slightly. "What didn't you hear-,"

"I heard everything," Cody interrupted, voice hard and steely. "But I disagree with your prognosis." The doctor seemed to be put-off by the young man's words and Cody held out his hand stiffly. "Cody Martin," he said coolly. "I'm in med. school right now and interning at an E.R. out in Chicago."

Allison sighed and released his hand to run a hand down her face.

"I've _seen_ migraines, Dr. Montgomery,_ plenty_ of them. But let me tell you I have _never_ seen my brother like that. He was _blinded_ by whatever pain he was feeling. Completely no responsive. Agony; he was in _agony_." Cody's voice was steadily rising. "And I'm _damn sure_ that there is something more serious than _Migraines_ going on! _Damn_ sure."

Dr. Montgomery cleared his throat. "Migraines can differ in length or intensity." he began. Cody snorted sarcastically and shook his head. "If Mr. Martin works with computers or is exposed to any sort of stress in his daily life than the effects and symptoms of the attacks can be quite dramatic…"

Allison nodded eagerly. "He's a journalist," she answered. "He works at a computer all day in New York City. I don't know if he's particularly _stressed_, but…"

She looked at Cody hopefully but, again, he ignored her. "This is ridiculous," he snapped. "You're not going to run a neuro.-scan? You're not going to do any tests? You're just going to give him some Tylenol and call it _fixed_?"

"Sir," Mr. Montgomery's voice had gone stern. "I'm getting the impression that you _want_ more to be wrong with your brother. Surely that's not true."

Cody gaped at him. "How DARE you!" he exclaimed. He let out a string of curse-words (sounding tremendously like his twin) and didn't notice the entrance of his mother who had emerged from the bathroom looking tired and stressed.

Cody was fuming. There was something wrong with his brother. And he fully intended on finding out _exactly_ what it was.

* * *

Later that day Zack had been given a clean bill of health and sent back with his family. Cody drove home, casting nervous glances back at his mother and brother in the backseat. Allison had been quiet the entire drive and Cody had begun to feel a strong sense of guilt come over him.

He pulled into the parking garage next to the Tipton and helped his brother out of the car. Zack wrinkled his nose at the extra assistance but didn't refuse the help. Once the four of them had made it back up to the suite, Allison began putting away the leftovers that hadn't made it into the dishwasher in time.

Carey went to help but the younger woman refused. "Please, Ms. Martin, let me do something," Carey smiled gratefully and went to prepare the pull-out sofa for bed. Cody, meanwhile, had pulled Zack into their spare-bedroom and closed the door firmly behind them. Zack, looking thoroughly miserable, took a seat on his old bed and Cody did the same on the opposite mattress.

"This's happened before."

Zack swallowed thickly and kicked at the ground. "Kinda."

Cody sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. "Zack," he said with a sigh. "I need you to be honest with me, okay? You scared the hell out of me today and I'm not looking forward to repeating the experience."

Zack rolled his eyes. "What am I, twelve?" Cody narrowed his eyes at the immaturity his brother could show, but said nothing. "Look, man, I'm fully capable of taking care of myself, thanks. The only reason I live with two other people is to split the cost of rent, which is ridiculously high in Manhattan if you didn't already know-,"

"-Speaking of your rent," said Cody slowly. "Remember last summer when you called and wanted money from me? What did you end up doing with it?"

Zack blinked and scratched the back of his head. "Uh," he said. "Over the summer…Oh. Yeah. That. Uh…I needed a new pair of shoes for work."

Cody stared at him. "You needed shoes," he repeated tonelessly.

"Yeah…" Zack was starting to get nervous under his twin's stare.

"And the fifty dollars you borrowed from mom in October. What was that for?" His voice was clear, sharp, and precise. Zack shifted awkwardly.

"The rent." he said, voice small.

"Are you doing drugs?"

If a pin had been dropped upon the carpeted floor it would have made a noise so deafening that it would have shattered the silence that it had intruded upon.

But no pin was dropped.

And Zack was left stunned.

"What?" he asked breathlessly, a bubble of outrage convalescing in the pits of his stomach and threatening to break forth with such blind fury, such raw _anger_ that it would have shaken the foundations of the hotel he'd grown up within.

Cody didn't move, staring his counterpart down. "You heard me."

Zack's heart began to beat very fast and blood roared in his ears. He jumped to his feet; fists clenched, and shouting before he knew it. "HOW DARE YOU!" he exclaimed, unknowingly mimicking his brother from earlier in the day. "YOU HAVE NO _RIGHT_ TO-WHY-YOU-!" he screamed out in frustration and pushed himself towards the front of the room.

Cody was saying something but Zack wasn't listening. He charged out into the main suite, picked up his single piece of luggage by the door, shoved his feet into his shoes, ducked into his coat, and slammed the door behind him.

He jammed his finger into the elevator call button and threw himself inside it once it arrived. Finally able to release some tension, he punched one of the walls of the moving box and swore loudly and venomously.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins like acid and he ignored the looks of acute surprise on the faces of the scattered guests, choosing instead to push through the revolving doors (ignoring the doorman completely) and ran to the parking deck.

It took him a few minutes to find Seth's car, but once he did he furiously twisted the key and yanked open the door, sliding into the driver's seat aggressively and pulling sharply out onto the main road.

And only then did he stop and think.

Crap.

He pulled out of the city four minutes later, and didn't let himself dwell on what he was leaving behind.

Hatred for Cody shot through him and he wanted to go and beat the tar out of his twin. To just _blindly accuse_ someone of doing _drugs_ was practically _illegal_! It was _unthinkable_! Zack wanted to commit _murder_ to release the amount of anger that was racing through him.

The lack of trust hurt him deeply; cut into his gut like a rusty knife and left him dry heaving in place of sobs. The worst part was that he was innocent—he was—well, he may not be a frickin' _doctor_ but he wasn't some street bum!

He had a job! He had an apartment! He _paid rent_!

Maybe he didn't have a beautiful fiancé or a nice suburban two-level or a _Golden Retriever_ but that didn't make him a _junkie_!

Zack wanted to just be done with it. To scream at his brother, to glare at his mother, to tell Allison to just _go away_ and give his _brother back_!

But instead he contented himself on the fact that he was going home.

And for the first time in twenty three and a half years, home meant anywhere where he could be far away from Cody.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Thanks so much for the reviews last time! PLEASE repeat and review?

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_


	15. December, 2009: Zack

**A/N**: I'd say something, but I think you all just want to get to the chapter. So thanks to all who reviewed, and enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

New York, New York

December, 2009

* * *

"…And I was like, hell _no_ do I want your frickin' _harmonica_—what is this, _Wild, Wild West_, or something_? Geez_!"

Charlie wasn't high and he wasn't drunk.

A month back, Zack had raided the apartment and ridded it of any illegal substances. What he'd found, he'd burned and scattered the ashes into the Hudson.

"Cha'ley, if she wanted yer money I think she woulda' asked for it, man-,"

"-Yeah, you'd think, wouldn'tcha? But this chick is _weird_!"

"Considering she spent a night with you I'm not having trouble believing that, to be perfectly honest."

After the Thanksgiving fiasco it had taken Zack a week to completely calm down, and nineteen days later he still refused to return any of his brother's calls. Part of him worried that Cody would just "drop by" again unannounced, but he was well-prepared if that disaster decided to present itself.

"Zack-Attack's still waiting for that special someone. Whatever gender this significant other may be is yet to be _determined_-,"

Zack snapped to attention and cuffed Charlie in the head. They were lounging around and doing nothing (a favorite hobby), but mostly trying to muster up enough energy to meander on down to China Town so that Seth could pick something out for his mother and sister and Charlie for one of his girlfriends.

Zack figured he'd pick up a purse or something for his mother. He ought to be getting his future sister-in-law something, but a deep, bubbling rage still burned in his stomach like acid whenever he thought of Cody.

"I've dated-what?-like, four girls since we've lived here, yeah?"

"Give or take-,"

"-Give or take? Ha! Name one girl you've brought home, man. Name _one_."

Zack rolled his eyes and made a show of counting on his fingers. "Julia," he said automatically, referring to a one-night-stand he'd partaken in within the first two months of moving to the city.

(He'd been younger then, and significantly less intelligent. Now he had a job and a future and bills to pay-)

"And, uh, there's was that one girl—what was her name?—Monica, or something. I forget what it was…"

Seth yawned and stretched. "Nah, dude, it was like…Monique, or-,"

"-That's _two_!" Charlie said, excitedly pointing an accusatory finger at Zack. "And that's it, right? No more. Jus' _two_. _Real_ men get ten in a _month_-,"

"-What is this, an MTV Exclusive?" Seth snorted sarcastically and glanced at his watch. "Times Square's the other end a'town, Charlie, go cheapen the world's women somewhere where you'll blend in a little more, how 'bout."

Zack laughed and stood up as Charlie began a rant of tirades (mostly fueled by a select few four letter words). "I'm gonna go," he announced, catching Seth's eye. "Get out of this apartment before my IQ drops down to the temperature outside, you know?" It was just as cold inside as it was out because they hadn't paid for heating.

Seth smirked and waved him out. "Get outta here," he called out good-naturedly. Charlie turned in his seat and flashed him a grin.

"Two down," he said tauntingly. "Eight to go!"

Zack shot him a look before grabbing a jacket and scarf and closing the door. He took the stairs down to the ground level and left the building. All around him taxis drove around hopefully but nobody had enough cash to pay for one and Zack was no exception.

He didn't really know where he was going, but he was starting to feel restless and worried and he had no idea why. Ever since they'd put up the giant tree by the Rockefeller Center and the lights had turned red and green and Santa made appearances in every other store Zack had felt strange.

Like he should be doing something.

Like he had no right to take weekends off of work or have an extra beer at night or not called his brother because of some stupid impulsive argument-

-Well.

At any rate, he was walking briskly and trying to ignore his breath as it hung before him in the chilly air. He passed a Starbucks and allowed himself to buy a Macchiato even though his funds greatly protested.

Eventually he came to Grand Central Station (though this was after a great deal of walking and dodging the lunch-hour traffic rush) and found himself taking the subway up to lower Central Park.

And only then, when he was nearing the walkways, he stopped at a payphone.

And he found himself dialing his brother's number.

And even though his mind screamed at his fingers to _stop whatever the hell they were thinking of doing_ he listening to the ringing, ringing, ringing…

Thoughts sped through his head like the train he'd just ridden, and he closed his eyes as his temples began to throb a little.

_"Are you doing drugs?"_

NO! Anger filled him and he snapped his eyes open as he gripped the phone harder. He'd turned down pot and crack and smack and meth and had chosen a straight, clean life where he worked for his rent, didn't take girls for property, and tried to impress his family.

But had any of that been noticed by his dear old brother?

No.

His twin had turned into some self-absorbed yuppie _prick_ and he-

"-Hello?"

Zack froze, the half-baked plan his extremities had concocted crashing to a complete stop. He blinked in surprise as he heard Cody's voice, his anger ebbing away to blind panic.

"_Hello_?"

"Uh," Zack cleared his throat and furrowed his brow. Hanging up would look suspicious, and _apparently_ Cody had enough of _that_ to last him awhile. Zack swallowed thickly. "Hey. It's me."

"Zack," relief flooded Cody's voice and Zack raised a brow in surprise. "Thank God you called I-," a pause. When the medical intern spoke next it was with a sadder tone. Zack figured it was a preparation for apology and waited for his brother's sorry.

But this "sorry" never came.

"Zack, I've been trying to call you for a month."

Zack cringed a little. "Yeah," he said awkwardly. "I've had a lot of-um, work, and stuff. I've been really busy, so…"

It wasn't a complete lie—he had been busy. Life at the paper never stopped.

"Zack," Cody's voice had gone even sadder and now it sounded even _pained_.

Zack crinkled his nose. All this drama for _one apology_?

"I have some bad news," Cody continued. Zack felt his heart skip a beat and he suddenly didn't want to hear anything else. "Are you sitting down?"

The journalist's eyes widened and he felt an almost overpowering urge to slam down the phone, jam his hands deep into the pockets of his cheap jacket, and ride the train back to Tribeca.

But he didn't. And Cody kept talking.

"What?" Zack asked breathlessly, trepidation cursing through his veins. "What happened? Did someone die? Are you okay? Is mom-,"

"-Two weeks ago," Cody started, his voice quiet and thin. Zack bit his lip hard. "Dad was in an accident over in Connecticut. There was a lot of-of ice on this road he was driving on and-um-he slid into a pole…It was bad, Zack. Really bad."

Zack couldn't seem to breathe right and he held the black, frayed payphone so tight his exposed fingers were white and numb. Inside the half-box (graffiti decorating all three sides) he began to shake. And not because of the cold.

"Is he okay?" he asked his brother, voice oddly constricted.

"Zack," Cody's voice was sympathetic, sad, and still soft. "He didn't make it. He died at the h-hospital hours later."

Tourists and New Yorkers alike spoke loudly as taxis honked, tires screeched, dogs barked, venders shouted out and the city continued as usual. Zack fought for breath as he gaped soundlessly into the payphone he clutched so tightly in his shaking hands. It had begun to snow and his sneakers grew wet as they rested upon new slush.

But he didn't notice. He _couldn't_ notice.

"Zack?" Cody was asking worriedly. "Zack? Are you there? Are you okay?"

Zack sniffed and wiped at his nose. "Um," he muttered distractedly. "Yeah I-," he ran a hand through his blonde hair and looked behind him at an impatient businessman who held up his watch rudely. "-I'll call-call you later, okay?"

"I understand how you feel, Zack. We're all still shocked. I went up to mom's last week, and-and she's doing okay. We-we planned the funeral for next Thursday. Right outside of Boston—where he grew up. I've been trying to reach you-,"

"-No, yeah, I understand." Zack cleared his throat and sniffed again. "I-I gotta go, man, I'll give you a call later-," his voice broke on the last word and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to compose himself. "I'll call you later."

And he hung up the phone.

He walked as if in a haze towards Central Park and registered nothing but his spinning mind. He didn't cry or scream or show any kind of emotion. Part of him refused to believe it, and he clung to his denial like some sort of life preserver…

Like some sort of life preserver for him, a drowning soul in a sea of thousands of people…Hands pulled him under, under, under; but they _wanted_ him to fight it. They _wanted_ him to struggle. They wanted to _mess_ with him, to fool with him, to drive him to the brink of _insanity_-

-And now, his father was gone.

His dad was dead.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_PLEASE review!

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_


	16. December, 2009: Cody

**A/N**: Enjoy, and thanks for the reviews :).

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

* * *

Chicago, Illinois

December, 2009

* * *

"Mr. Martin! I'm surprised to see you here today."

Cody looked up from where he was filing away some papers. He'd taken the past week off but couldn't see taking any more time away from his job; people relied on him too much for him to do that.

"Yeah," he answered, looking into the face of Dr. Walker. His mentor had gradually given him more and more time and space to work independently and now only assisted him on more complicated measures. "I have to miss a day for the-um-the funeral next week, but…"

He trailed off with a faint sigh and closed the file cabinet as he straightened. Dr. Walker nodded slowly, gaze concerned. "And you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Cody assured him. "My dad I weren't all that close. My mom and he were divorced, so I only saw him once every few months or so."

"And your brother? How's he taking it?"

Cody ran a hand through his blonde hair, debating over how much he should tell the older man. He trusted Dr. Walker completely and respected him a great deal. Over the past months Cody often found himself emulating the doctor and deep down wanted to be like him someday. Childish, perhaps, but still true.

"He's taking it okay, I think," said Cody finally. "He was closer to, um, him than I was. They spent a few weeks once when I was fifteen together out in New York. They saw everything and did a lot…Zack said he was going to go back there one day; he said it was the only place he felt, you know, completely at home…" Cody smiled slightly, sadly. "And he did. He's still there, and I don't know how to help him." He shook his head in frustration.

Dr. Walker clasped a hand on his shoulder. "I feel like a cup of coffee, how about you?"

Cody hesitated. "I have a lot of work to catch up on…"

"It'll still be here when you get back, I promise." When Cody still looked hesitant the older man nodded at the door. "As your supervisor, I'm not giving you a choice." There was a twinkle in his eye and Cody finally consented.

* * *

When they had both ordered coffees and seated themselves in the nearest Starbucks Cody took out his cell phone for the thirtieth time that day to check and see if Zack had called.

He hadn't.

With a sigh the twin put it away and turned to face his companion.

"Your brother and you are twins, right?" Dr. Walker asked conversationally.

Cody nodded and took a drink of his latte. "Yeah. He's older by five minutes."

"You said he was closer to your father?" the doctor's tone had gone more serious and Cody suddenly felt as though he could spill every secret he'd ever kept.

"They're really similar," he confirmed. "Growing up it'd be like…I was, you know, the responsible one all the time. I got the good grades, I did all the community service, I never yelled at my mom…" Cody rolled his eyes a little—looking back he could see how he'd been the butt of many jokes. "But Zack…He was different. He always kind of hid behind sports, you know? But he never really liked them, he just felt like he had to all the time.

"And then when we were, oh, maybe fourteen or fifteen, he had to write this article for an English assignment. Zack, you know, he moaned and groaned about it for weeks until he actually sat _down_ to write it. I don't know how he did it, but he wrote that paper within minutes. Opinions, facts, theories, details, the works. Effortless.

"And that was his thing for the rest of high school. He tried to keep it a secret—even from me—but you could tell how much he loved it." Cody laughed a little reminiscently. "He started to read the newspaper everyday, and when my mom wouldn't buy one _he'd_ buy one—with his own money!

"We graduated from school and I went here to Northwestern and he went off to NYU and since then…I don't know. I never see him. And the last time I did…It was a disaster. I made a mistake and he hasn't-he hasn't forgiven me since."

Cody sighed deeply and took a long chug of his coffee. When he set down the cup he met Dr. Walker's interested gaze. "What happened?" he asked politely.

Cody felt shame wash over him and he looked down as a flush crept up his neck. When Allison and his mother had heard what he'd accused his brother of they'd both been horrified. He'd felt completely justified until he'd gotten the news about his father, and then he began to feel guilty.

And it didn't help that Zack was an exceedingly stubborn person.

"I just said something to him that really upset him," said Cody, not wanting to tell Dr. Walker what had actually happened. The man seemed to understand and he didn't press the issue.

"Why don't you invite him here for a little bit," he suggested. "You and him should probably be together anyway."

Cody shook his head. "He doesn't have enough money to fly," he said. "And I don't want to make him feel like he has to depend on me for anything."

"You could phrase it differently, maybe…Make it seem like you _wanted_ to pay…"

Again, Cody shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Zack's not stupid; he'd know it was a form of charity."

Dr. Walker nodded slowly. "And now helping one's sibling is considered charity, I suppose."

Cody smiled wanly. "And he hates me, too," he said. It had been meant to be humorous but had fallen flat, and Cody felt a sense of utter hopelessness wash over him. The doctor seemed to sense this and caught his eye.

"He doesn't hate you, Cody, I'm sure of that." The man took a small drink of his coffee. "But maybe you should give him his space for a little while…Maybe he needs to grieve in his own way."

Cody blew out his breath. "Yeah," he said softly. "Maybe."

* * *

He saw her on his way out late that night and hurried towards her. She was still wearing her scrubs but had pulled on a heavy wool coat over it.

"Allison!" he said loudly, keeping his voice about the wind. Snow flakes whipped around them and ice glittered under their feet.

She smiled wanly at him and kissed him lightly. "How are you?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm doing okay," he said honestly. She nodded and opened the door of her car, setting her purse inside. "I'll give you a call tomorrow. Maybe we can call Jill and see if she's found any more homes…?"

Jill was their real estate agent who was "working very diligently" to find them a home in the north Chicago suburbs.

Allison smiled. "I'll talk to you then," she said.

Cody waved to her as she got inside the vehicle and drove off.

Her tail lights glittered like a million Christmas trees as they joined the other cars on the busy city roads.

And he got into his own automobile, looking forward to seeing Buster when he finally got home.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_I'm having a bad day :(. A review would make it better..._

_Who, me? Propoganda? Nah..._

* * *

**NEXT**: A special chapter! Zack tries to celebrate the holidays with his friends, but he's having trouble dealing with his father's death. Cody journeys up to Boston to be with his mother and shares a romantic day with Allison. Kurt's funeral is held.

* * *


	17. December, 2009: Part III

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews--they brightened my day ;). Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

**NOTE**: The word "smashing" is dedicated to Shy of Silence. She PMed me and used this word, and I thought it was great so I added it in, haha.

* * *

Boston, Massachusetts

December, 2009

* * *

Cody put the car in park once he was satisfied with his spot in the parking garage and sighed.

"I really don't want to do this," he said to Allison sadly.

She looked at him sympathetically and rested her hand on his knee. "It's Christmas, Cody," she reminded him softly. "Your mom shouldn't have to be alone."

"Yeah," he said, sighing again. "I know."

They each exited their own sides of the Sedan and, hand in hand, walked out of the building and towards the familiar hotel. Cody wore his usual ironed khaki slacks and a dark blue polo, and his fiancé had opted for tasteful jeans and an overlarge white sweater.

Five days remained before Christmas, but Cody was thinking more along the lines of the funeral in two days. He hadn't managed to reach his brother since his last conversation via telephone, and the lack of communication was worrying him.

They managed to enter the lobby and get into the elevator without too much attention (Mr. Moseby had nodded once in a cordial greeting from his post at the front desk) and they rode it, still hand in hand, up to the suite.

Once the couple reached the door, Cody's fisted hand hovered hesitantly above the wood. Allison noticed this and tightened her grip on his other hand. As though this small action gave him confidence Cody knocked twice, gently, on the white door.

The door slowly opened a few moments later, and Carey ushered them in with quiet hugs. "Merry Christmas," she said tenderly to both of them once the door was shut and their coats and shoes had been put away. "I'm sorry the circumstances couldn't be better, but…"

Cody smiled kindly. "It's okay, mom," he said sincerely. "How are you doing?"

She returned his expression. "I'm doing fine," she said. When he looked skeptical she nodded. "Really, Cody, I'm fine." Her expression turned worriesome and she looked at him hesitantly. "Have you heard anything from Zack...?"

Cody blew out his breath and ran a hand through his neat hair. "Yeah," he said. "I don't know if he's going to make it, though." Flashbacks to the dozens of times he'd covered for his brother during high school came to him, suddenly, and he fougth the urge to cringe.

Carey's face turned a bit sadder. "But he knows, right?" she asked, voice solemn.

"He knows," confirmed Cody. An awkward silence commenced, and finally Allison broke it.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Martin," she said genuinely. Carey turned a grateful smile towards the young medical student.

"Thank you, dear," she said. A moment of silence passed until the woman clasped her hands together and walked into the kitchen. "Coffee?" she called back to them. "Tea? It's a bit early for wine, I think…"

"Coffee's fine," said Cody and Allison nodded. "For both of us."

Allison moved to help her fiancé's mother and Cody slowly sat down on the old couch. He'd grown up with that furniture, and though it had changed position over the years it was still the same sofa, still the same chair, still the same table…

Things had been rearranged and redecorated, but deep down they were as old as they had ever been. The same as what they had once existed as.

It was a comforting thought, really.

When they were all settled in the furniture, each with a steaming mug of dark coffee, Carey spoke with a tone crisp and professional. "I spoke to Kurt's family," she said. "The will is all in order, and you'll get more information on that privately." Cody nodded and exchanged a look with Allison; the fact that his father had bothered to make a will was a bit of a surprise. "The funeral is on Thursday, as you know, and the showing is tomorrow. I don't know which you were planning on attending-,"

"-I was just planning on going to the funeral," said Cody with a frown. "But do you think I should go to both?"

Carey gave a sniff and her son detected a bit of scorn she still harbored whenever the subject of her ex-husband was brought up. "I'm only going to the funeral," she said unhelpfully. "I suppose it's your choice, though, what you do…"

Cody sighed.

Life was hard as grown-up.

* * *

New York, New York

* * *

"I got Michelle this Dole-key Gab-anna purse—you think she'll like it? I got Nicole this Lewis-Vweeten one…It seemed popular with the tourists. And, personally, I think it looks very _smashing_ if you know what I mean." He winked dramatically.

Seth looked at Charlie with an expression of utter disgust. "Man," he said, voice sounding supremely condescending. "First of all, it's pronounced _Dolce_, okay, not 'dole-key'. And it's _Louis Vuitton_, not 'Lewis-whatever'."

Charlie shrugged and placed the two "designer" purses on the coffee table. "Hey," he said. "I'm a ladie's man, not a _lady man_."

Seth smirked and threw a pillow at him. "You're an idiot," he proclaimed.

Charlie shot him an inappropriate gesture and began stuffing the gifts inside identical brown paper bags. He grabbed two used cards and began frantically crossing out the previous address and re-writing the names of the new recipients.

Seth focused his attention on his other roommate. Zack was sitting at their kitchen table, staring at a newspaper in front of him but not reading a word. His head rested on his hands and his posture was stiff and unresponsive.

Seth frowned. "Hey, Zack," he called out. No answer. "Zack!" Again, no answer. Charlie took notice and casually chucked one of the purses at his friend's head. It impacted its target successfully, and with a jolt Zack sat up.

When he turned around to face the offenders Seth raised a brow at the journalist's appearance. Zack's long hair was especially unruly and lay in matted snarls around his pale face. Dark bags clouded his eyes and his nose was red and looked irritated. When he spoke his voice was tired and husky.

"What?" he demanded, a hint of anger beneath his obvious exhaustion.

Charlie, as usual, was nowhere near shy about vocalizing his current thoughts. "Dude," he said bluntly. "You look like crap, man."

Zack sighed and rubbed at his drooping blue eyes. "Thanks," he said bitterly.

Seth glared at Charlie once in contempt. "Your brother called," he told Zack offhandedly. "Something about going to your mom's for Christmas."

Zack groaned and let his head fall into his arms. He mumbled something unintelligible and Seth chewed on his bottom lip in thought. "Um," he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "You feeling okay, man?"

Zack raised his head and ran a hand down his face. "I'm fine," he answered curtly. "Just tired. I was out late last night."

Charlie looked up briefly from tying a piece of string around the bag in a pitiful attempt to make it look more expensive. "What pub did you end up going to, anyway?" he asked conversationally.

"That one by the, uh, restaurant…place…"

Seth and Charlie exchanged looks. Seth looked critically at his friend's slouched posture at the table. "I think you should call him back," he suggested cautiously. Zack snorted. "No, seriously, man. He probably wants to talk to you."

"He wants me to go to Boston for Christmas." said Zack tonelessly.

Seth blinked. "What's wrong with th-,"

"-My dad's dead, Seth, the _last_ thing I want to do is go spend a Christmas with my mom and brother _reliving_ all the _special times_ we've all shared." Zack's tone had gone cynical and angry. "And then when we've exhausted _that_ subject I get to listen to endless hours' worth of frickin' _wedding plans_ and how he's such a good doctor and how he's _saved lives_ and all that crap. Yeah, Seth, let me just go book my ticket."

Seth held up his hands in mock surrender. "Sorry," he said sarcastically. "Forgive me for trying to be a good friend. Heaven _forbid_ I-,"

"-Just drop it, will you?"

Zack's voice was tired and noncommittal, and the fire that usually danced rampant in his eyes had been replaced by an alcohol-tinged cobweb that seemed to suffocate the very life trying to console him.

He spent the night lost in his own mind.

* * *

Boston, Massachusetts

_Two days later_

* * *

The funeral had been formal and professional. It had been a very nice service and everyone had been exceptionally cordial, despite the rocky marital situation. Cody had been exceedingly polite, but he'd gripped Allison's hand nearly the whole time. He felt bad, but he was infinitely grateful once the funeral had ended.

He worked in a career surrounded by death, and yet facing it was still something he did not know how to do with ease.

That night, after they'd bid goodnight to a drained Carey and unpacked their bags in a nearby room the couple settled into bed, the alarm clock gently ticking beside the bed.

"Part of me misses him," said Cody softly in the darkness. "But part of me doesn't even remember him…" he trailed off with a faint sigh. "Does that make me a horrible son?"

"No," said Allison, her cool hands resting against his back. "Just because you two weren't close doesn't mean you didn't love each other."

Cody took a deep breath. "Zack didn't come," he said lowly, his voice bearing traces of concern, pain, and frustration all at once. "I thought he would. I thought for _sure_ he would."

There was a pause before Allison answered. "He's old enough to make his own decisions, Cody," she reminded him gently. "He must have had his reasons."

"Yeah, but he's never been good at making good choices," protested Cody rather weakly, concern coming through blatantly. "And I'm worried about him…"

"You worry too much," Allison murmured sleepily. "You should worry about yourself more often."

Cody didn't feel like talking anymore, and suddenly he felt very tired, very old, and very overwhelmed. Settling in deep into the covers he took comfort in the touch of the woman he loved and closed his eyes. "Love you," he said to Allison.

"Love you," she whispered in return.

* * *

New York, New York

* * *

Zack stumbled out onto the fire escape, half-empty beer bottle in one hand. He stared down at the streets below.

Bending his head back he drained the rest of the drink, and when he was finished he let it drop. Story after story, floor after floor, it fell until it hit the ground.

He didn't hear it shatter.

Leaning over the edge he blinked slowly.

It was a long way down.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Please review_!

* * *


	18. Christmas, 2009: Zack

**A/N**: Zack's Christmas. Next will be Cody's. This chapter is based entirely on a true story--it was an event that made me rethink a lot of things and, I believe, helped shape at least some of who I am today. Keep that in mind, maybe, and (as always) enjoy :).

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

New York, New York

_Christmas, 2009

* * *

_

_Come they told me_

_pa rum pum pum pum_

_A new born King to see,_

_pa rum pum pum pum_

The voice rang out as one, a unified cry that sent shivers down his cold spine and attempted to free his even colder heart. He pulled his knees closer up to his chest so that his chin rested upon them. The park bench he sat upon was frozen and stiff; his gloved fingers sliding over chips of ice.

_Our finest gifts we bring_

_pa rum pum pum pum_

_To lay before the King_

_pa rum pum pum pum_

_rum pum pum pum_

_rum pum pum pum_

The huge Christmas tree, famous all over the world, glittered in the darkness. Everywhere couples and families congregated near each other, rocking gently as they sung out. The spirit of the holiday had possessed even the cruelest of Scrooges.

Zack watched them with sad blue eyes, the hasty hat on his head barely covering his frosty blonde hair. It was well past eleven P.M., but it was Christmas Eve and the sky was alight with yuletide joy.

"Daddy! I see Santa! I see Santa!"

A little boy tugged eagerly at his father's jacket, pointing passionately up at the black sky. Somewhere, maybe, the stars were out, but the city remained, as usual, without their iridescent appearance.

_So to honor Him_

_pa rum pum pum pum,_

_when we come._

Zack's hardened heart constricted as he saw the man, dressed in torn jeans and a ratty green coat, bend to lift his young child. The little boy's face was half covered by an over-large scarf but his smile was more than apparent as he feasted his bright eyes on some invisible joy.

Snow fell gently from the faraway clouds, and as it fell upon the streets Zack watched everyone from little girls, to high school sweethearts, to middle-aged parents, to elderly soul mates try and catch the feather-light flakes on their outstretched tongues.

"Merry Christmas!" people called cheerfully to each other.

Bitterly, Zack sniffed as he realized that this was probably the only time enemies would ever make any attempts to be friends, and in a week's time such festive accomplishments would be nothing more than forgotten shame.

Like acts made in an alcoholic haze, this joy would soon fade like the snow into nothingness. The excitement and spirit would disintegrate, and then New York would be itself again.

So filled with people it was lonely. So lonely it was smuggled. A world in itself, and yet more of a world than any other place in the whole, angry world.

With a cynical sigh Zack got up from the park bench. He excused himself around the hoards of people and ducked into the nearest subway hub. Catching a train seconds before the doors closed, he took a seat near the back, rested his head against the window, and closed his eyes so as not to see the world speeding by.

"M'ry Chris'mus!"

Zack opened his eyes to see a homeless man sitting across from him. The elderly African American grinned (displaying missing teeth and a lopsided smile) and held out a tin can. Zack sighed.

"Sorry," he said lowly. "I don't have any money…" he trailed off, watching as the homeless man shook his head, still grinning.

"Nah fo' money," he said happily. "Fo' _troubles_."

Zack blinked. "I don't get it." he said baldly, not in the mood.

The homeless man held up a patient hand. "Here," he said briskly. "I show you 'xanple, yeah?"

Zack looked at the moving light on the subway map. He still had five stops left until his own. _Great_.

The homeless man had uncapped the tin can and closed his eyes. After taking a deep, practiced breath he spoke over the opening. "_Hunger_," he rasped.

Zack watched, mesmerized, as the man proceeded to immediately close the can and sigh in contentment. He looked expectantly at Zack. "Good?" he checked.

Hesitantly Zack stared at the offered can before, feeling trapped and obligated, half-heartedly peeling off the cap. Inside the can was an old cigarette bud. Zack wrinkled his nose and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh," he said. "I dunno if I can fit all my troubles in this can…" he joked, but the man failed to see the humor.

"_Speak_! Get out yo' _troubles_!" he urged.

Zack rolled his eyes but obliged. "Um," he stuttered, leaning over the can. He had tons of problems; he just had to pick one. The man's unblinking stare waited fervently for Zack to say something, so, feeling entirely uncomfortable, Zack quickly said the first thing that came to mind.

"Family-,"

But as he spoke his chosen trouble, the homeless man yanked away the can and began shaking his head strongly. "Tha' not _trouble_," he declared.

Zack snorted. "It is for me," he said assuringly.

"_No_," the homeless man continued firmly. "Fam'ly is _gift_! Like life is gift. Like all good t'ings is _gifts_. Fam'ly is _love_. Love is _gift_."

Zack frowned at the man. Here was some homeless bum who'd wasted away his life on booze and drugs, and yet he was trying to teach him, Zack, a _lesson_? That was entirely inappropriate, not to mention hardly plausible.

And yet there was something about the man's words that had struck something within Zack. That had made him want to…to…Well, he wasn't really sure. But the words were bothering him and that rang a bell of annoyance with him.

With a jolt, the subway screeched to a stop. Zack realized belatedly that it was his stop and as he hurried out of the train he distinctly heard the voice of the homeless man shout out behind him.

"Fam'ly no trouble! Fam'ly _gift_!"

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Thanks so much for all the reviews last time! Care to repeat the service?

* * *

_


	19. Christmas, 2009: Cody

**

* * *

A/N: This chapter marks the end of PART ONE of this story. (Yay!) The next chapter's events will take place ****three years** **after** the ending of this one. (That will make the twins twenty six.) Oh, don't look so surprised!: This chapter marks the end of PART ONE of this story. (Yay!) The next chapter's events will take place the ending of this one. (That will make the twins twenty six.) Oh, don't look so surprised! 

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

Chicago, Illinois

_Christmas, 2009_

* * *

_Come they told me_

_pa rum pum pum pum_

_A new born King to see,_

_pa rum pum pum pum_

"This is my all-time favorite Christmas song."

"This one? It's not even about-,"

"Shh, Cody…Don't ruin the moment…"

_Our finest gifts we bring_

_pa rum pum pum pum_

_To lay before the King_

_pa rum pum pum pum_

_rum pum pum pum_

_rum pum pum pum_

The Christmas tree was beautiful, the lit candles on the coffee table were beautiful, Buster's shining golden coat was beautiful, the gentle snow falling outside the window was beautiful…

…But nothing was as beautiful to Cody at that moment than his fiancé gently stringing beads around the garland above the fireplace. Her hair glowed in the light of the crackling fire and the way she gently danced to the music was so elegant and graceful it nothing short of hypnotized Cody.

He sat on his couch, a glass of sophisticated wine in one hand and a peaceful smile on his face. His mother, who he'd persuaded to come down and spend the holiday with them, was readying her gifts in the guest room.

The suburban house was warm, bright, and cozy and it was home to those who loved like they breathed, cared like they walked, and smiled like they slept.

A half hour later the three of them were settled in the chairs around the fireplace. Carey, well-rested after many naps in the past few days, smiled peacefully, beaming at her son and proudly listening to his words.

"…And it's a good house, too; not huge, but definitely more room than we need. It's right out of the city but we're still easily within driving distance of work."

Allison gently massaged Buster's ears. "You should see the ceilings, Carey," she said with a happy smile to her mother-in-law. "They're so high…"

"Eight feet at least," confirmed Cody, his mathematical-side shining through.

"It's got four bedrooms—which is what we wanted—a great kitchen, an office, a family room, and two bathrooms."

"Really nice yard, too," said Cody agreeably. "Trees and a garden…"

Carey sighed in contentment, smiling wistfully. "It sounds perfect," she said, and Cody noticed with some surprise and dismay that tears were glittering in her blue eyes.

"Mom?" he asked in concern. "Are you-,"

"I'm so proud of you, Cody," she said tearfully, sniffing and wiping at her mascara with a tissue. "I always worried that you-you would hate me later on in life because of the way you were brought up…"

Allison passed her the tissue box sympathetically and Cody frowned. "Hate you? Mom—I would never hate you! Why on earth would you think-,"

"-Oh, because," Carey finished wiping at her eyes and mouthed a _thank you_ to Allison gratefully. "We never had a house or enough money…It was always apartments and then finally the suite…But you never really had the neighborhood feeling or-,"

"-But we had something even better!" said Cody convincingly. "Maddie and London and Mr. Moseby and Estaban…They were our neighbors, mom. And _The Tipton_ was our neighborhood."

"I suppose," said Carey, calming down. She smiled gently and changed the subject. "Have you two thought about raising a family? Having children?"

Cody exchanged a grin with Allison and they both nodded consecutively. "We have," said Allison, still looking at Cody. "We've decided that we want three. At least," she added with a laugh.

"That's _wonderful_!" Carey exclaimed, beaming again.

Cody grinned wider. "We've even thought up names," he added.

To answer Carey's unspoken question Allison counted off on her fingers. "If we have a boy, we want to name him Noah Curtis," she looked at her fiancé.

Cody's smile turned a little sad. "After dad," he said softly. Carey closed her eyes briefly before smiling wanly. Cody continued. "And if we have a girl we'd like to name her Sophia Anne." His expression turned a little mischievous. "We thought since we'd already chosen dad's name for the boy, we'd let Zack use yours for his first daughter."

As if on cue, the phone started ringing and Cody jumped up. "I'll get that," he said. Allison and his mom liked to talk alone together—girl stuff, Cody figured. He walked into the kitchen and picked up the cordless.

"Hello?" he answered.

"…Cody?"

Cody's heart skipped a beat and he quickly ducked into a more private area to talk. "Zack!" he said gratefully. "My God, I've been worried about you, man!"

"M-Merry Christmas, Cody,"

Cody frowned, not liking his brother's tone. Zack sounded tired and weak, almost like he was sick, or something, and his voice was quiet. There was a tone to his words—one of something akin to desperation, and it was scaring Cody.

"What's going on, Zack?" he demanded briskly. "I haven't talked to you in weeks, you didn't show up at dad's funeral, I invited you here for Christmas—mom's here—and you didn't even _respond_!" Cody couldn't stop himself; all the anger and fear and concern he'd felt towards his twin was spilling out.

"I don't even know what's _up_ with you anymore, Zack! I want to know if your headaches have continued, if your rent is being paid, if your job's going well…And I want to tell you that Allison and I found a house, I want you to be my best man at the wedding—so many things, Zack! Where have you _been_? Are you alright?"

There was a long pause before Zack answered, and when he did Cody distinctly heard tears in his choked voice. "I've been messed up," he said hopelessly. "I've-I've been _drinking_ and I almost got fired…But I didn't, Cody, I didn't get fired. And I've stopped drinking. And I want to start over and start writing a book—but I can't until you-until you…" he trailed off.

Cody rubbed at his temples irritably. "It's Christmas Eve, Zack," he snapped. "I'm enjoying a nice, calm evening with Mom and my fiancé. I really don't want to hear about how you've messed your life up-,"

"-I know," Zack took a shaky breath. "I _know_, it's just…" he sighed. "You've got everything, Cody. Mom's so proud of you. And maybe I'm jealous. Christ, of _course_ I'm frickin' jealous, but I want to start growing up."

Cody pressed his fingers to his eyes. "Zack, it's _Christmas_-,"

"-I know! I _know _it is. But earlier tonight I was riding the subway…And this guy reminded me that-that family's, like, a gift. And he was right, Cody, family _is_ a gift." Zack sniffed in the background. "Please forgive me, Cody—I'm sorry I've been such a screw-up since high school, but I'm working on it; I swear I am."

"I'm not mad at you," said Cody, confused and more than a little irritated. "But you can't keep disappearing and worrying mom and me."

"I know!" Zack sounded heartened. "And I was wondering if-um-maybe for New Years you'd want to come here? We could go down to Times Square…Watch the ball drop…You _and_ Allison could come!"

Cody, ever the sensible twin, shook his head. "What, are we going to stay in your apartment with you and your friends? That may've worked for me, Zack, but I'm not going to bring Allison to a place where she feels uncomfortable."

"You could stay at a-,"

"-Hotel? We just bought a house. Do you know how much hotel rooms in New York cost, Zack?"

Zack sighed in frustration. "I'm _trying_, man!" he burst out. "I'm trying to make it up to you! I want to-to get to know Allison and to stay in touch with you and I want-I want-," Zack blew out his breath unsteadily. "I want mom to be proud of me, too."

Cody heard Allison calling for him in the family room.

"Look, Zack," he said quickly. "I want that, too, okay? And I completely support whatever life-changes you want to invest in. If you ever need anything just call me. We haven't been very close, and I want that to change."

"Really?" Zack sounded both shocked and thrilled. "That's—you have no idea how much that means to me, Code'," he laughed. "Merry Christmas!"

And Cody smiled, too, because he had the two women he loved most in the world two rooms away, because his future was falling gracefully into place, and because his brother seemed ready to—finally—grow up.

"Merry Christmas, Zack," he said. "I'll talk to you later."

But three years later, the world was a very different place.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Thanks for all the reviews! Please continue to let me know what you think!_

_

* * *

_

**NEXT**: Three years later, Zack has a new place, but does he have a new life to go with it? And Cody and Allison have one child and another on the way, but their dream-life is forever changed after one trip to the hospital...


	20. PART TWO May, 2012: Cody

**A/N**: Hello! Three years have passed since this story was last posted, and you will soon see that while some things have changed, some things remain the same. **For more information about a topic in this chapter, please see my profile page**. Don't worry about what that topic is until you've read it--it will be very obvious once you do. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

Northview, Chicago

(Twenty minutes north of Chicago)

_May, 2012_

* * *

In a brick house with a white fence and three growing trees lived a family.

The father was a budding pediatrician, the mother a nurse.

Together they had one child, a three-year-old son.

They had two dogs, too, and a goldfish named Seuss.

The father was, at the moment, pulling into the driveway after a long day (and half of a night) on-call. His suit was rather wrinkled and his eyes were tired, but his posture was confident and he wore a casual smile as he took his briefcase up to the door and unlocked it with his key.

He swung the door wide-open, carefully closing it behind him, and looked down the sunny hallway. H could hear his wife talking to what he presumed to be the telephone in their newly-redone kitchen, so he sought out the other light of his life.

The father turned down the hallway and into the family room. Sure enough, his blue eyes befell his three-year-old son; stiff in his sitting position, the toddler was staring as if mesmerized at the Disney movie playing on the TV screen.

His face broke out in a happy smile and he set down his briefcase. "Noah…" he called out for his son, arms spread wide expectantly.

The boy gave no notice of his father's words or presence.

So, the father tried again. "Noah!" he said cheerfully. "Noah!"

Still, the toddler made no move; still staring transfixed at the animated film playing before his blue eyes. His mouth was open a little in a frozen _oh_ shape, and in one hand he gripped a plastic action figure (a gift from his grandmother).

The father sighed shortly in disappointment, letting his arms drop to his side and shaking his head slightly.

"Well, it's about time you got home."

The father turned around, relieved to hear his wife's voice. He kissed his quickly and smiled sheepishly. 'There was an emergency," he apologized.

She nodded understandably and frowned a little when she saw his face grow worried as he looked towards his son again. "What is it?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "It's…It's nothing," he said but she pressed him. "I love Noah more than anything, but…" the father trailed off guiltily. "Everyday I hope he'll run into my arms and say _daddy, daddy_! and be happy to see me, you know?"

She sighed sympathetically. "I scheduled an appointment with a behavior specialist today."

The father looked at her in shock. "_What_? Allison—we haven't even _talked_ about this-,"

"-Cody, you know as well as I do that Noah's…I love him to death, too, but he's different." At his immediate protest she held up a hand. "He's going to be three in a month, Cody, and he still doesn't make sentences or look at us…" she shook her head. "Sometimes it's like he doesn't know his own name-,"

"-There's nothing wrong with him," Cody argued defensively. "He's just on his own schedule. I was late talking, too-,"

"-You said it yourself, honey," Allison reasoned. "He's not like an average toddler. And this Dr. Marrison comes highly recommended."

Cody frowned skeptically, staring at his son who hadn't moved from his spot in front of the TV at all during their discussion.

"We're just going to talk to her, Cody," Allison said softly, looking at him. "That's all. No tests, no analyzing…Just a talk. For our son—for Noah."

The credits of the tape ended and the screen went to static. The child did not move, and continued to stare.

Cody sighed in defeat. "Okay," he agreed reluctantly. "But just a talk, right?"

Allison reached up to hug him. "Just a talk."

* * *

"What does Noah like to do when he's by himself?"

Cody exchanged a look with Allison. He cleared his throat and folded his hands in his lap. "Well," he said briskly. "He enjoys puzzles-,"

"-Complicated puzzles," Allison cut in. "The five thousand pieces ones-,"

"-And he liked to stack things, too." Cody smiled a little. "The other day we found him stacking our dogs' toys, one on top of the other…At least fifteen."

"He draws a lot, too," Allison added.

The behavior specialist nodded diplomatically, writing something down on the paper she had in front of her. Cody and Allison sat in two chairs in front of the large oak desk she sat in; Noah was playing with an _Etch n' Sketch_ in back of the room.

"What sorts of things does he draw?"

Cody thought for a moment. "Designs, mostly," he said. "Shapes and things."

"He likes patterns," Allison agreed. The couple exchanged a loving glance.

Dr. Marrison scribbled something down. "He doesn't make eye-contact, show affection, or participate actively with you two?" Allison and Cody shook their heads. "And he has a very long attention span, likes putting together puzzles, draws pictures of patterns, stacks things, and always straightens out any rows he sees?"

"Correct," said Allison.

"But he's smart," Cody cut in rather defensively. "He can memorize things instantly, it seems like. And he loves math—he'll organize soup cans and books by the number of calories and pages."

Dr. Marrison was silent for a while, flipping through the file on her desk. The couple turned their attention to their son who was dutifully turning the knobs of the toy, staring attentively at the screen.

Allison slowly stood up from the chair and went over to the child. Seeing her sudden presence, Noah dropped the _Etch N' Sketch_ and walked over to a stack of books, feeling their leather spines curiously. Trying not to look hurt, Allison took the toy over to the desk and set it down.

Cody leaned over and read the words. Once he'd finished he shook his head slowly, smiling a little proudly. Three-year-old Noah had written:

_Dr Marcia Marrison PhD Behavioral Specialist please call ahead for appointments Dr. Theodore Brunson PhD Neurological Geneticist see front office take stairs left take elevator right James P. Warner vice president Christopher Kelly Behavior Reference and Study Center_

He'd copied, word-for-word, the sign that was hanging down in the front lobby of the building. They had passed it over thirty minutes ago, and yet Noah had somehow remembered every name, position and direction.

"Here," said Cody to Dr. Marrison. "Look at what my son can do."

She read it over, no expression coming over her face. Allison kept her eyes on her toddler, but Noah was still standing and examining the large books in front of him. He seemed utterly fascinated with every crease in their seams…

"Mr. and Mrs. Martin," said Dr. Marrison seriously. "I can understand if you want to get a second opinion, but I believe that your son is autistic."

And just like that, everything changed.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Thanks so much for the reviews! I dare you to post more... _;)

* * *

NEXT: Zack's life has changed. But how? And is it for the better?


	21. May, 2012: Zack

**A/N**: Bit of a wait for this one; it was a little harder to write than I thought it was going to be. Anyway, thanks to my reviewers as always :) .

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

New York, New York

November, 2010

* * *

"Go fish."

"This is the stupidest game ever. Five-year-olds can play better than us!"

"_Go fish_, already."

Charlie rolled his eyes and drew out a card from the hopelessly random pile between the two roommates. He glared at the selected card and looked up to face his friend with a scowl.

"Do you have any sevens?" Zack asked strategically. Charlie cursed and threw him a seven. With a sly smile Zack placed it with his original card to join the other numerous pairs at his feet. "You're such a sore loser, man," he said jokingly.

"Why don't you just go-,"

But Zack never found out what he just go and do, because at the moment the phone rang, interrupting Charlie's irritable retort. Zack (being closest to the receiver) picked it up and answered. "Hello?"

As he listened to the words spoken by the opposite line his face paled and his blue eyes went wide. After a few moments of shaky questions he slowly hung up the phone. He stared at the ground numbly, brows furrowed as if deep in thought.

"What?" Charlie demanded impatiently. "What is it? What's wrong?"

* * *

New York, New York

May, 2012

* * *

_The pen snaked from his shaking grasp, clattering to the floor like shots breaking deathly silences. The man did not let this occurrence cause him to falter, and still he crept quietly. Love poisoned his dark heart and so he crawled with an air of menace and danger—insane thoughts burdened his spinning mind, and his cat-like eyes missed nothing in the still chasm of night…_

"For the love of God-,"

The twenty-something man at the table swore loudly, pressing a frustrated finger down hard on the backspace key. He took a large gulp of his black coffee and lowered the mug back down with a solid _clunk_.

He sat in his new apartment, boxes scattered about him like bricks to an unfinished building. The only box that he had opened was lying precariously upon his thin counter, and he was currently typing away at what had been its contents.

The phone rang from somewhere in the room, muffled by the taped cardboard. Damn—had he forgotten to unpack that?

A few seconds of fruitless searching declared that yes, he had indeed. The young man swore again, putting his ear to each box with every shrill ring until he at last found the one in question. He tore it open viciously and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?" he answered, rather out of breath.

"Zacko'! All moved in?"

Zack rolled his eyes good-naturedly and leaned against a convenient wall. "I got side-tracked," he answered honestly.

"Take a break from your masterpiece for two hours and come meet me for lunch. I'll pay; this time we can have the cake _and_ the coffee."

Zack grinned at the reference to years back. "Charlie," he said with a laugh. "I don't want to know where you've suddenly obtained money…"

"Meet me for lunch, and I'll tell anything you want and more about my own cash-flow obtainance. And I got news, too."

"Yeah?" Zack glanced at the time displayed on his laptop. "Good news?"

"Nah. No news unless you come, eh? It's a secret unless you meet me."

Zack kicked at the floor with a sneaker. "Alright, alright," he submitted. "It's—what? Eleven-ish?"

"Meet me at the _Dime_ at twelve. Hey—you taking the subway?"

"That's a damn shame, man. Too bad you're not as fortunate as me, old sport." Zack could just see his friend's grin and he rolled his eyes.

"Thank you, Jay Gatsby," he said sardonically. "I'll see you later."

* * *

"Long time no see!"

Zack looked up as Charlie sat down across from him. His friend had let his red hair grow out a little, and he'd opted for a matching goatee, as well. He looked three years older easily, and Zack almost wished he'd changed more, too.

"How you doing?" he asked Charlie with a genuine smile, trying to push all thoughts of his novel from his mind.

Zack shrugged. "Can't complain," he answered neutrally. "Not quite as prosperous as you apparently are…"

Charlie clicked his tongue. "I've suddenly rediscovered a great love of family."

Zack blinked. "Family?"

"Family," Charlie confirmed with a nod.

"And that's made you rich…?"

Charlie took a gulp of coffee. "Her name is Ava, and she's a lawyer." Zack suddenly put two and two together and gaped disbelievingly. "I was up visiting my parents, right, and it turns out she's representing a good friend of their's in a lawsuit." Charlie raised his Styrofoam cup. "Next thing I know, we're dating, we're engaged, and the wedding's in August."

Zack nearly choked on his drink. "You're getting _married_?"

Charlie looked at him with a look way too similar to disdain for it to be genuine. "We're twenty six, man, that's what people do."

"Yeah," said Zack, brow furrowed. "_Stiffs_!"

Charlie sighed and shook his head slowly. "You ought to be thinking about your future, too, Zack," he said, his voice mysteriously getting deeper. "Since Seth I…" his face was momentarily stony and Zack immediately looked away. "Well. Anyway, another three years and we'll be more than middle aged."

This was all too much. _Charlie_ was telling _him_ to grow up? _Charlie_? Of all people, Zack couldn't believe it.

"My future," said Zack annoyedly. "Is in my book. That's why I quit the _Times_. That's why I moved away from Tribeca. I _am_ thinking about my future. Christ, Charlie! You sound like my _mother_!"

"And you sound like my little brother." Charlie smiled then good-naturedly, finishing off his coffee. "I don't want to lecture you, Zack," he said with a chuckle. "But I've grown up, and it's something I'm really proud of. And Ava…Man, I love her. I messed around a lot when we were younger, but now I'm ready to settle down, have kids, be a father and a husband…"

Zack ran a hand down his face, the coffee suddenly tasting sour. "Good," he said with a fake smile. He stood up and smoothed the front of his t-shirt, part of him wishing he was wearing Charlie's polo and khakis. "I'm glad for you, Charlie. Sounds great." He stuck out his hand, feeling exceedingly awkward.

"Thanks, Zack," Charlie shook his hand professionally and clasped him on the shoulder. "Your day will come, too, man. Just wait for it; one day you'll wake up, find a good job, find a good wife, and then everything will fall into place."

Zack returned his friend's cheerful smile, but his was fake and forced. "Yeah," he said with a phony laugh. "I-uh-I should probably get back..." _To what_? he asked himself bitterly. _To your job at the deli? To your stupid novel_? _To your pointless life_?

"I've got to get going, anyway," Charlie agreed, winking. "Ava scheduled this catering business to come and discuss the wedding plans…" he sighed in mock weariness. "So much work…And here I am just waiting for the honeymoon!"

* * *

When he got home Zack slammed the door in frustration and kicked at the wall to release pent-up aggravation.

It seemed like the whole world was growing up and moving on and _becoming something_, and here he was: stuck in the mud.

He'd quit his job at the _Times_ when the commitment had become too much, and he'd moved out of Tribeca after-

-After Seth had died.

And now Charlie was all mature and successful and Cody was living some great fantasy life, and though Zack had switched apartments four times in the past two years (thanks to a little thing called eviction), he didn't feel at home.

New York City wasn't satisfying him anymore. The excitement and the thrill and the feeling of belonging had slowly faded with all that which had made it so. Being alone in such a place felt like a giant room where the walls slowly caved…

And he had built those walls.

He had built his own jail cell.

And now he had to find a way to break out.

Zack sat down before his laptop and flexed his fingers, preparing to type more of his book. This novel was going to be his ticket out of this shallow world and into the life that everyone else seemed to be living.

This book was his way out; it was his salvation, his escape, his chance…

Now all he had to do was write it.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Reviews make the world go round! Care to contribute? _

_

* * *

_

**NEXT**: Cody, Allison and Noah take a trip up to Boston. But complications arise...


	22. June, 2012: Cody

**A/N:** So. Who's up for a happy chapter? Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

Northview, Illinois

June, 2012

* * *

"I don't think so."

"Come on, Noah, it'll be fun. We can pick out mommy's birthday present!"

"I don't think so."

"Daddy wants you to come, Noah. I'll even buy you ice cream if you want!"

"I don't think so."

Cody sighed. "Why not, son?"

Noah blinked, staring at the Lego in his hand. "It might rain," he answered seriously. At three years old he'd managed to reconstruct the Eifel tower out of the small multi-colored pieces—although he'd had something against the blue ones and thrown them in a discarded pile behind the couch.

"That's okay if it rains," Cody reasoned with his toddler son. He crouched down to the child's level, wearing a gentle smile. He had yet to change out of his lab coat and suit despite having gotten off his shift an hour previously.

"No," Noah insisted, high-pitched voice monotone. "It might rain."

Cody cleared his throat. "I don't think it's supposed to rain-,"

"-I don't think so. It might rain."

Cody sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Noah, please," he said, more tiredly. "Daddy needs to buy mommy a birthday present."

Allison was out on a rare luncheon with friends. She'd left Cody with Noah which usually wasn't an issue, but her birthday was coming up and Cody knew this was the perfect time to go and pick out a gift.

But to do that he had to convince his son.

"Hey," he said enticingly. "Don't you want an ice cream cone?"

Noah began constructing something else out of the leggos at his feet—something that looked oddly like a refrigerator. "Chocolate ice cream." he said.

Cody brightened. "That's right," he said encouragingly. "Chocolate ice cream if you come with daddy to the store."  
Noah had evidently lost all interest in his reconstruction of the Eifel tower because he took a bright yellow plastic brick out of its base, sending the model crumbling to the carpeted floor. "Chocolate ice cream with sprinkles." he clarified.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Cody agreed confidently. His three-year-old son put down the Lego he'd been holding and looked up at his father, blue eyes focused and bright.

"What if it rains?"

Cody smiled and held out his hand. "I have an umbrella," he said reassuringly.

Noah stared at his hand before reaching out and taking it, lifting himself off the ground to stand next to his dad. "Chocolate ice cream with _sprinkles_." he pressed.

Cody nodded and led his child out to his car parked in the driveway. Once Noah was safely buckled in his car seat in the back Cody turned on light jazz music and began to talk good-naturedly.

"You know," he said, watching Noah stare passively out at the cars. "Your uncle Zack always wanted sprinkles on _his_ chocolate ice cream, too."

Noah blinked. "Uncle Zack." he repeated monotonously.

"Yep," said Cody kindly. "You remember meeting him when you were really little? He lives in New York City."

Noah's face lit up with recognition. "New York, New York," he recited from memory. "Population of eight point two million and home to the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building and the U.N. headquarters. It is divided into five boroughs: Manhattan, Queens, Brooklyn, the Bronx and Staten Island. The Yankees are one of the most highly publicized and wealthiest teams in-,"

"-Good, Noah," said Cody congradulatorily. Noah stopped talking to stare again out the window. "Did you see that on TV?"

"Discovery Channel—explore your world."

Cody laughed gently as he pulled into the local ice cream parlor. "You wanted vanilla, right, Noah?"

Noah's face broke out in a rare grin and he shook his blonde curls playfully. "_Dad_…" he drawled out. "Chocolate with sprinkles."

Cody winked at him and leaned out the window to order. As he was giving instructions to the teenager behind the window Noah began saying "dad" over and over again. Cody ignored him as he gave his order, and only after he'd paid and driven up to the next window did he turn to focus on his son.

"Dad," said Noah. "Dad." a pause. "Dad."

"What is it, Noah?" Cody asked, trying to remain patient and calm.

Noah said nothing for another moment before he slowly pointed out the window. Cody frowned slightly in puzzlement before turning to look out his own window. He shook his head slightly and laughed.

It was raining.

"Well, Noah," he said slowly. "Good thing we brought that umbrella."

* * *

When Allison got home that afternoon she smiled serenely as she beheld the sight she saw upon entering the family room.

Asleep on the leather couch was her husband, and by his side was Noah. They both appeared so comfortable that she dared not wake them and instead tip-toed into the kitchen. She noticed a shopping bag on the countertop and beside it a birthday card. With a smile she refrained from peeking and contented herself with checking the messages on the machine.

A voice behind her startled her. "Back so soon?"

Cody stood in the doorway, a small smile on his face as he kissed her quietly. He seemed to see for the first time the bag on the counter and with a look of horror he hurried over to put it away.

Allison laughed. "Relax," she said kindly. "I didn't look at it."

He put the gift and card safely away. "How was your day?"

"It was nice," said Allison honestly. "Did you and Noah do anything?"

"We went shopping," Cody answered with a grin. "And got ice cream."

"That sounds very lovely," Allison said and they kissed once more before breaking apart and setting out plates and such for dinner.

As Cody set out forks and spoons on the napkins Allison hesitated, wanting to tell him something but not knowing if it was the right time. When he turned back to her to retrieve the empty glasses she caved and smiled sheepishly.

"Cody," she said slowly. "I have something to tell you."

"What is it?" he asked politely, setting out the cups and turning to her expectantly. Allison came up closer to him and he raised a quizzical brow.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered. Cody began to slowly smile wider and wider, excitement dancing in his blue eyes he threw his arms around his wife and held her close in a joyous show of affection.

"Are you sure?" he checked.

"Very," Allison said, kissing the man she loved on the cheek. "Noah's going to be a big brother, Cody. We're going to have another child!"

And outside the rain continued to fall.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Please review!

* * *

_

NEXT: Zack's headaches make a comeback. And what happens when his mother decides to check in with her long-lost son?


	23. June, 2012: Zack

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews ;). Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

New York, New York

June, 2012

* * *

"Hello?" 

"Zack? It's your mother."

The young man smiled a little and lowered his hands from the keyboard. "Hey, mom," he said warmly. It was a sunny day and he was in one of his good moods. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing very well, thank you," his mother replied politely. "You?"

He started at the first completed copy of his manuscript. Only the epilogue to go. "Great," he answered genuinely. "I'm doing really great."

"That's wonderful, Zack." A slight pause. "I'm assuming Cody told you the news?"

Zack grinned and spun around in his chair. "Baby number two!" he said gallantly. "He sounded thrilled. I'mreally happy for them."

"Me, too," his mother said, sounding wistful. "Anyway, I was thinking that maybe we could all get together sometime this summer. I can travel down to Chicago or up there to see you…Cody says they just renovated the guest room at his house so it may make more sense to go there…"

A less-mature Zack would have bristled at the implication that his twin had more to offer, but he'd done a lot of growing up as of late and accepted the statement as truth. "Sounds fine to me. When were you thinking?"

"Cody and Allison say that mid-July works the best for them-,"

"-Then it works the best for me, too," Zack agreed quickly. "It's been ages since I've seen Noah! How's he doing?"

"He's doing great. They're working with some people before he's old enough for preschool, but he's a wonderful boy."

Zack smiled happily. "That's terrific," he answered. "That's really terrific."

"And how's your life going, Zack? Still living alone?"

Zack rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes, mother," he answered obediently. "I actually applied, though, yesterday for a job at a newspaper up in Buffalo."

"That's wonderful, Zack!" was his mother's reply. "Do you think you'll get the job? When are you supposed to find out?"

"I should find out by the end of this week," Zack answered with a hopeful smile. "And I've got everything they're looking for, so we'll see…"

"If you get it will you move up there?"

"I think so," said Zack slowly. "I've actually been looking at homes around the area just in case. I've got quite a bit of money saved up and I think with what I'll get if I was to sell my apartment and what the salary of the new job would pay I'd be able to afford a nice little home outside of Buffalo. Probably in Amherst."

"That's wonderful," his mother said again. "I'm so proud of you, Zack."

With a smile and a glint in his blue eyes, the young man laughed. "Thanks, mom," he said. "That means a lot."

* * *

Two Years Previously

**

* * *

**

"Give us a call when you get there, man. So we know you didn't die, or something."

Zack and Seth rolled their eyes at Charlie's comment. Seth shrugged on his coat and stared at them awkwardly for a few moments. He looked a little peaky and paler than normal but Zack dismissed the detail as a trick of the dim lighting.

"I'm just going to go visit my dad in Ohio," he said as though trying to convince them of something. "And then I'll fly right back."

"Alright," said Zack quietly. "We'll see you when you get back, then."

"Have a ball," Charlie said, mouth full of an apple he'd just taken a bite of. "Send a postcard, or something."

Seth laughed but it sounded almost forced. Zack's brow furrowed a little, unsure and a bit off-put by his friend's odd behavior. Charlie waved once more before disappearing into the second room and Zack lifted one of Seth's suitcases for him.

The two roommates walked out into the hall together and set down the bags as the button to call the elevator was pressed.

Seth stuck out his hand. "See you in a few days, Zack," he said lowly, pulling his friend into a quick embrace.

"Yeah," said Zack with a small smile. Unable to shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right, he scratched his head. "You okay, man?" he asked Seth. "You seem kind of…I don't know…strange…"

Seth cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm fine," he answered shortly. "I'm just—I'm not feeling too hot right now-,"

"-What-you sick or something?"

Seth made a strange face and shook his head. "I don't know," he said. He lowered his voice and looked around as if confessing something. "The past two days I've felt like I'm going to pass out, or something…Like…Eh." He broke off, laughing carelessly. "I'm sure it's nothing."

The elevator _dinged_ and the doors opened. Seth shoved his two suitcases in and stepped inside. Zack suddenly felt an urge to stop him; wanted badly to reach out and grab him to keep him from going. But he didn't. He let him go.

Seth raised a hand just as the doors began to close, flashing a small smile. Zack returned the gesture and expression, frowning slightly at the same time.

Then the doors closed and Seth was gone.

And Zack never saw him alive again.

* * *

Present Day

* * *

Charlie's future wife, Ava, was half Asian and carried herself with an air reminiscent of one Jackie Kennedy Onassis. Her dark hair was pulled up in a loose bun, and her round eyes—slightly almond-shaped—were enhanced delicately with stylish black wire-frames. 

Charlie himself probably should have looked out of place beside her, but he was grinning in that Charlie-way and gallantly led her over to the table where Zack was already sitting, scribbling furiously inside a notebook.

"Hey, Zacko'," Charlie said good-naturedly in greeting.

Zack dotted a period and closed the book, setting down the old ballpoint pen and sticking out a hand to greet his friend. "How's it going, Charlie?" Without waiting for an answer he turned to smile politely at the woman beside Charlie's side.

"Zack, meet Ava," Charlie introduced, grinning like a schoolboy. "Ava, meet Zack."

Ava smiled, her expression both kind and sophisticated as she took Zack's hand, giving it a firm shake. "It's very nice to meet you, Zack," she said, pronouncing each word eloquently. "Charlie has said a lot about you."

"Has he?" Zack smirked nervously. "How much did he pay you to get you to come today?" he joked. Charlie and Ava laughed.

The restaurant was Italian and while the couple across from him decided to split lasagna, Zack noticed with some trepidation and more than a little humiliation that he didn't have the money to pay for most of the meals.

So, he ordered a salad.

This, however, presented an entirely new problem because now Zack was going to have to prove his masculinity to Ava. Having never met him in the flesh before she was unaware of his usual culinary habits, and he refused to let her think that he was some lettuce-eating half-man, or something.

Thus, he ordered a beer to accompany his Caesar Delight.

"…Man I work with, name's Bill, and he's sitting across from me in a meeting and he turns to me, and he says, 'so, how long do you think it's going to take me to become C.E.A.?' and I said, it's going to take you a _lifetime_ if you can't even spell the title!"

Zack, Ava and Charlie (perhaps loudest) laughed jovially. Zack was starting to regret his alcohol consumption as a faint line of throbbing pain had begun to snake through his temples.

"What do you do, Zack?" Ava asked. Her tone was crisp and polite, but a seed of irritability was planted in Zack's stomach at her question.

"Oh—," Charlie cut in. "Zack's a writer. He's writing a book."

"Really," Ava said, voice lilting slightly.

Zack took a bite of lettuce and swallowed it thickly. "That's right," he answered, trying to sound confident. "But I have a job lined up at a paper in Buffalo so my vocational responsibilities may soon be changing."

He threw in the word "vocational" because he figured it sounded, well, _business-like_. Lawyers liked extensive vocabularies, said Jerry Seinfeld. Or was that Donald Trump?

Before he could contemplate this dire matter further a sharp jet of pain suddenly gripped him. Hissing, Zack's hands sprung to his tempers as he clutched them as if determined to stop the sudden onslaught of pain.

"Zack?" Charlie sounded worried. Zack was too busy to notice.

He cried out a little, trying hard not to cause a scene, and stumbled away from the table. Bathroom. He needed to find-to find a bathroom and then-and then-

He felt a hand land on his arm and found himself being steered in some unknown direction. Succumbing completely to this guidance Zack squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers into the sides of his head.

The pain was intense and (literally) mind-numbing, and when Zack was finally sat down in some foreign bench he buried his head in his hands, curling his toes tightly to try and deal with the pain.

And then, slowly, the hurt started to subside. Zack felt sanity return to him as though it were presents exchanged beneath a Christmas tree. When he raised his head from his shaking hands he saw Charlie's concerned face looking back at him.

"Are you okay?" his friend asked quickly, eyes focused and more than a little freaked. Zack swallowed and took a quivering breath, shivering.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely, running a hand through his light brown hair. "Yeah, I-I get these headaches, sometimes-,"

"-Seth talked about them, once," Charlie answered, voice quiet. "He said you got random migraines and they were really bad…"

At the mention of Seth Zack looked away awkwardly. "I know," he answered. "I meant to go and get medicine for them but I guess I never—I never did…"

Charlie stood up suddenly from the bench they both sat on behind the back entrance/exit of the restaurant. "That settles it," he said decisively. "You're going to go see your doctor tomorrow and fix your headaches. For your career, man. And-you know-and for yourself."

Zack laughed bitterly. "With my thousands of dollars invested in health care?"

"Dude," Charlie said with an eye-roll and sounding more like his old-self. "Your brother is a _doctor_, man, you have connections!"

Zack sighed shortly and allowed Charlie to pull him up from the bench. The drama over, the two friends walked back into the restaurant to go back and sit with Ava.

* * *

He was sitting, typing furiously as he tried to pluck away at the epilogue. He couldn't make up his mind, though, and he kept changing what he had written. 

And then the phone rang.

Pausing half-way through a sentence Zack turned to grab the receiver speaking a casual "hello?" into it and waiting to hear who it was.

"Zack Martin?"

Butterflies began dancing in his stomach. "Yes," he replied slowly.

"This is Ed Hodge from the Buffalo _Tribune_."

Zack gripped the sides of the chair in a nervous sort of twitch. This was it! This was the moment that was going to determine the direction his life was headed! This was going to be what would potentially set him apart from every "artist" living in the subway tunnels, and from every bum waving an empty can at passerbies. This was-

"We reviewed your resume and application, but it doesn't look like we have the room to add you to our-uh-to our staff at this time. We only have so many spots to fill and then that's it."

A pause.

"But apply again in the future, alright? You never know. Maybe someday you'll get lucky."

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Penny for your thoughts? Review?_

_

* * *

_

NEXT: A crisis leaves Cody with an impossible choice. But choosing isn't the hard part.


	24. July, 2012: Cody

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

Cody was in the middle of an exceedingly hectic day.

His files had multiplied by the dozens so fast that by four P.M. he was exhausted and grumpy. His shift had started at seven in the morning, and for nine hours he'd nothing but assist every sort of patient imaginable.

He sunk into a chair in the employee lounge and sighed as he rubbed his temples. His friend Logan tossed him a Pepsi from the refrigerator and collapsed into the sofa across the room. He nodded in greeting.

"Dr. Martin," he said, lowering his voice in mock formality.

Cody rolled his eyes and took a sip out of the cold can he held. "Dr. Skiff." he said, returning the old joke. Both young medical professionals took philosophic sips of their beverages, basking in the freedom of the moment of calm.

"You off soon?" Logan asked politely, flicking something off of his blue scrubs. He was a surgical intern who had a reputation as a complete perfectionist who was concerned with every minute detail imaginable.

"Eight," Cody sighed, running a hand down his face tiredly. "My shift ends at five but Terry called in with the flu so I'm covering."

Logan whistled lowly. "Well, that's damn good of you," he remarked.

Cody took another drink of the Pepsi. "He covered for me that time I had to stay home with Noah when Allison's dad was sick. He's been good to us."

Logan nodded, tipping the can towards Cody. "How's Noah these days?"

The weariness Cody felt seemed to lighten slightly when he thought of his son and he smiled reminiscently. "He's great," he answered genuinely. "He's doing fantastic. We have him in this daycare center and it's absolutely perfect. Flexible hours, reasonable pay, great environment…"

Logan smiled. "That's great, bud," he said, sticking out his hand in congratulations. Cody took it and shook it warmly. "I'm glad everything's working out. And you've got another one coming, don't you?"

Cody felt a familiar warm sensation spread through his body as he thought of his unborn child and more of his exhaustion seemed to leave him. "April nineteenth," he said with a grin. "We're counting the days."

Logan held his can up again in salutation. "Is that all you and Allie want? Two?" Cody shrugged a little.

"Before we found out about Noah we were going to go for three…But I think we're just going to be happy with what we have, and that means two."

Logan finished off his can. Cody did the same.

"We couldn't be happi-,"

Suddenly the door to the lounge burst open and a nurse stuck her head inside the room. "Dr. Martin," she said urgently. "Dr. Walker wants to see you."

Cody sighed and drained the last of his soda, rising slowly as he accepted the fact that his break was over. Logan shot him a mildly sympathetic look and shrugged as if to say, "Well, it's your paycheck."

Dr. Walker looked pleased about something as Cody approached him in the E.R. waiting room. He held a clipboard in his hand but at second glance Cody saw that it was empty, meaning this matter was not of a patient.

"Dr. Walker," he said politely in greeting, smiling brighter than he felt. "You wanted to see me about something?"

"You have a visitor," Dr. Walker's eyes sparkled and he motioned significantly towards someone sitting down in one of the plastic waiting chairs.

Cody frowned, puzzled, but moved forward.

"Dr. Martin, I believe you remember Jonathon?"

The man in the chair turned as he stood, and Cody instantly gaped in surprise. There was Jonathon, one of his first patients from three years back. Bullied in school, the then-sixteen-year-old kid had eventually attempted to commit suicide after hearing of his mother's death.

He'd grown considerably, his features more refined and handsome than before. He wore expensive-looking glasses and a smart outfit, holding a briefcase and extending a hand that wore a leather-banded watch.

"Hey, Dr. Martin," he greeted quietly, smiling widely as Cody took his hand and shook it.

"My God!" Cody exclaimed as he took his old patient in. "You've grown up!"

Jonathan laughed and ran a hand through his thick hair. "Yeah," he agreed, looking shyly at the ground. "I'm nineteen, now, so I guess I have since you last saw me." His expression darkened a little and Cody quickly questioned him further.

"Nineteen? _Wow_." He sat down across from his old patient and Jonathan did the same. "Are you in college?" Jonathan nodded.

"I'm at Northwestern," he answered. "For architecture."

Cody smiled proudly, shaking his head slowly. "No kidding? Architecture—see, I told you those art skills would come in handy someday!"

Jonathan grinned reticently. "That's why I'm here," he admitted, opening his briefcase and pulling out a paper. "To say thanks for, you know, for listening." Cody stared at him thoughtfully, waiting patiently for the young man to continue.

"I was going through a lot back then," Jonathan proceeded, his voice lower and his eyes glued to the paper he held in his hands. "And I guess…Well…At any rate, I entered a scholarship program a few months after the last you saw me, got in, applied to Northwestern and now I'm in my second year and know exactly what I want."

Cody felt a warm sense of completion burst in his stomach and he shook his head slowly in gratitude and pride. "That's…That's terrific, Jonathan," he answered genuinely. "How's your brother doing?"

"He's doing well," Jonathan said casually. "He found a good job at Ford so he's there right now. Things are pretty good."

"That's great news," Cody told him, extending his hand again in an offered shake. "That's really great news."

* * *

When Cody got home he didn't find the dream welcome he'd been subconsciously hoping for.

Instead, he found a disgruntled Allison and a whiny Noah.

And a giant mess on the kitchen floor.

"Look, I understand having to take extra shifts but it would be really great if you could _call me_ when you plan on taking them!"

Cody held up his hands in a peaceful surrender. Allison was standing with a mop, trying futilely to clean up the box of cheerios and the spilled jug of milk that her toddler had decided to throw at the ground.

"I tried to call, honey, but I just had so much to do-,"

"-Well, so did I!" Allison shouted, eyes blazing as she bent to mop up the milk. "I had my hands full all day today—and it was supposed to be my day off!"

"I'm sorry things got hectic, but things were hectic at the hospital, too-,"

Allison snorted and looked at him in impatience. "Noah's out in the family room building something and he's gotten it into his head that somebody took one of his blocks. It would be fan_tastic_ if you could _find the time_ to console our son."

Her words were scathing and Cody submissively ducked out of the kitchen, hoping to find more sympathy with Noah but unable to shake a logical feeling that things weren't going to be smooth with his child, either.

Sure enough, Noah was beside himself.

His blue eyes were wide and wild as he overturned everything in sight to try and find his missing Lego. Cody hadn't the faintest idea why Noah had decided one was missing, because he had _hundreds_ scattered around him.

"Hey, Noah, whatcha up to, buddy?"

Noah promptly ignored him, muttering panicky at himself as he feverishly searched through a bookcase.

"Noah—can I help you with something?"

Noah turned his way but didn't make eye-contact as he spoke. "Somebody stole the Lego," he muttered. "Somebody stole the Lego, somebody stole the Lego, somebody stole the Lego…"

"I don't think anyone stole it, Noah, maybe you just misplaced it?"

"Stole it. Somebody stole the Lego." Tears fell from the toddler's eyes as he desperately crawled under the couch to look for the missing piece.

Cody opened up his arms, wanting nothing more than to hug his child. Noah sniffed, looking once more around the room in a tearful search before half-falling into his father's embrace.

Wonder gripped Cody and he hugged his son tightly, kissing the top of the boy's head and basking in this moment of normalcy and contentment.

Ten minutes later they found the Lego.

In the kitchen among the spilled Cheerios.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Please review!_

_

* * *

_

NEXT: Zack finds a career opportunity, but he'll have to fight to succeed.


	25. July, 2012: Zack

**A/N**: I was going to wait, but I couldn't resist putting this chapter up. I was going to post it tomorrow anyway and I figured I might as well post it sooner rather than later while I still have your attention ;).

Thanks so much for the reviews!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

New York, New York

July, 2012

* * *

Zack had this thing with writing: He wouldn't do it unless he had something to drink sitting next to his laptop. Because he suffered from intolerable and unpredictable migraines alcohol was not an intelligent option (he'd been down that road and had interest in returning).

That left coffee, water and apple juice.

As a kid he'd loved fruit juices. He'd loved them more than sodas, and as ironic as this was it never struck him as such. Sugar was present in both Sprite and apple juice, but one was good long after the lid was opened.

And this was why, at six thirteen in the morning he was in some local grocery store trying to find where they'd put the juice aisle.

He read the signs about the shelves but none of them seemed to say what he wanted to find and none of them were proving any help at all in finding his desired beverage. Zack scowled and turned sharply (planning to go request some service)-

-And slammed harshly into a woman.

The both of them stumbled back and into separate bread displays. Zack shook his head to find equilibrium and immediately hurried over to assist his victim. She seemed steady, head bent as she dusted off her dress suit.

When she looked up to answer his hasty questions he recognized her instantly and his embarrassment immediately intensified.

"Ava!" he said, trying to sound happy to see her as his ears became red.

She looked at him, clutching a Starbucks in her hand. Her makeup was flawless and she had her long hair up in a stylish sort-of bun. "I'm sorry-," she said, seemingly unsure. "Have we met?"

Zack tried not to let her lack of recognition bother him. She was a lawyer, after all; she probably saw thousands of people per day. "I'm a friend of Charlie's," he said charmingly. "We all ate lunch the other day…?"

Ava closed her eyes in humiliation, tapping her head as she remembered finally who he was. "Right," she said with a laugh. "I'm so sorry—it's early, you know, and I've got a _hell_ of a day ahead of me." She sounded completely genuine.

Zack shrugged. "Hey," he said casually. "No problem. I'm sorry I ran into you, though; I was looking for apple juice and I got frustrated when I couldn't find it."

Ava smiled. "Aisle four," she answered. "I just picked some up." She held up her basket to reveal a brand new jug of juice.

Zack nodded appreciatively. "Thank you," he said with an awkward laugh. "Like you said, it's early."

Ava had to go through aisle four again to get to the checkout so she stayed with Zack as they made their way across the store. It was empty save a few cranky employees, and the cheap lights kept flickering.

"So what kind of law do you practice?" Zack asked curiously.

"Political," Ava answered smoothly. "Right now I've got that mayoral campaign and that can get kind of…well, hectic."

Zack whistled, impressed. "Really?" He knew it would be nosy to ask his next question but being a former-journalist he couldn't resist. "Whose side are you on?"

Ava rolled her eyes halfway. "Just looking for the juice, huh?" He was about to apologize and withdraw his question but she proceeded without giving him the chance. "I'm working for Mr. Bailey."

Zack couldn't suppress a gag. "You work for _Bailey_?" he exclaimed in disgust. "You're running that hypocrite's _campaign_? God, Charlie made it seem like you were _smart_." Ava snorted, her heels clacking roughly against the tiled floor.

"Not that you would have any idea, but Mr. Bailey is actually the perfect candidate for the mayor of New York. He's got everything in place; unlike his opponent who couldn't tell you what democracy _means_ let alone how to work with it." Zack let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Well at least Andrews doesn't ignore every person who isn't in his little _circle of friends_!"

Ava let out a cry of protest. "So it's better to have some liberal _nutcase_ running the country's most important city than it is to have a responsible _leader_, then? Is that-,"

"-_No_, but you're forgetting the fact that Bailey isn't a leader—he's a puppet who knows how to _dress_ like a leader! He's some figurehead who knows how to walk the walk and talk the talk, but couldn't manage to find a sidewalk or microphone!"

"And I guess you've got some-oh, I don't know-some _Harvard_ law degree, then? Because of your numerous political achievements you are an absolute _expert_ on American politics, is that it?"

Zack had forgotten completely about apple juice. "You don't need a-a PhD to tell if some guy's telling you the truth. You don't need some _Harvard law degree_ to understand what this city needs! And you don't need some _badge_ to know that Bailey's a fake-ass oil tycoon who's just going to _sit_ in that office and smoke imported Havana cigars as he watches the city _kill_ itself!"

Zack was on a roll now and his face had gone red, his eyes bright and alert. "This country doesn't need another figurehead—we have the Supreme Court for that! What this country needs is to start focusing on—I dunno—the _people_. Equality and-and health care and _education_, too! Those are the issues! Those are what these 'leaders' should be talking about! Not redecorating the capitol or-or how to tell the best lie to fool the American public! We don't _need_ to be fooled! We need to be _heard_!"

Silence regarded the end of his spontaneous speech.

Ava seemed almost speechless, and her defensive matter faded into a slight smile as she regarded him with newfound interest. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and cleared his throat.

"I-," he started to apologize.

Ava cut him off. "-You get that off of some TV show?"

Zack blinked. "What? The speech?" Ava nodded. Zack furrowed his brows and laughed. "Nah. I'm used to just blurting out my opinion in the paper and I guess I just got a little ahead of myself-,"

"-As far as temper tantrums go," Ava continued calmly. "That was one of the most eloquent and sincere ones I've ever heard."

Zack stared at her. "It's-it's just what I think," he shrugged simply.

Ava smiled wisely and pulled something out of her jacket pocket. "That's my point," she answered cryptically. She offered him the retrieved business card and he took it hesitantly. "My number's on there. Call me if you ever want a job."

Zack snorted. "What—working for _Bailey_? No _thanks_."

Ava looked back at him clearly. "It pays the rent," she said. "And besides, you're right about people not needing to be fooled."

Zack smiled and looked down at the card in his hand. "I'm not sure I'm the guy you'd want to help run any campaigning-,"

"Relax, Zack. It's not the presidential election—it's just the mayor. He's more of a figurehead anyway, isn't he? A puppet."

"Yeah, but you don't understand," Zack continued, looking at her as if confessing something potentially detrimental. "My brother's the important one. I'm just…I'm just me, you know? And I'm not really a leader, anyway."

Ava raised a brow as if amused. "That's what Bobby Kennedy said." Zack laughed softly and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'm not exactly Bobby Kennedy," he said honestly.

"No," Ava agreed. "You're Zack Martin. And I think you might surprise yourself." When he still appeared skeptical, she smirked. "What—is your job at the deli too important and influential to leave?"

"Hey," Zack joked, grinning. "At least I'm not working for a hypocrite!"

* * *

That night Zack sat up in his apartment. His computer's screen-saver had long been on and he hadn't gotten another sentence of the epilogue complete.

He hadn't written anything because a.) he hadn't gotten the apple juice and b.) he was much too busy staring at the business card he held in his hand.

Maybe…Maybe that job rejection up in Buffalo had been for a reason…Maybe his days of journalism were ending…Maybe his future was-

-But _politics_?

The idea was not only absurd, it was near impossible. He didn't have any Harvard law degrees and he hadn't done anything in the first twenty-six years of his life that would constitute voter loyalty.

And yet…Maybe…Maybe he did have a knack for it. Maybe he _did_ have something—something he didn't even _know_ about—that would contribute to some sort of-of _talent_ in the political field...

Sure, he was inexperienced. And yes, he wasn't particularly well-educated in that area of study, but he wasn't stupid. He'd read tons of history and governmental and legal books while studying at NYU. He'd put up with friendly teasing from Charlie and from Seth and had poured more effort into political research than he had to his own field of choice.

Maybe…Maybe this was his calling. Maybe this was his _moment_. Maybe everything else that he had _failed_ at had led to this, and maybe his whole state of being was not to be some lowly misunderstood writer who was always overshadowed by Cody…Maybe his whole state of being was to right the wrongs!

Maybe he wasn't supposed to be serving people in the deli; maybe he was supposed to be serving people in the _country_.

And this was essentially how the dreamer known as Zack Martin discovered a hidden aspiration to enter the world of politics. This was the beginning of a race that extended far beyond the mayoral election of New York.

This was the beginning of the rest of his life.

And for the first time since getting the job at the New York _Times_, Zack felt like he finally had something, some_one_, he wanted to become.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Please review!_

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NEXT: The Martins reunite! Or do they...


	26. August, 2012: Part I

**A/N**: Definitely a filler chapter. Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

On the road to Boston, MA

August, 2012

* * *

"Noah, honey, stand still for a few seconds so mommy can get your shoes on-,"

"-I don't WANT to wear the blue shoes!"

"Sweetheart, I think you'll forget about the color as the day goes on-,"

"-Blue is bad, blue is bad, blue is bad, blue is bad…"

Cody peeked his head inside the room to find his wife struggling to place navy sneakers on their three-year-old son. A small bump was visible under her pretty cream sweater—evidence of their second child.

"Hey, Noah, if you wear these shoes maybe daddy will take you for ice cream!"

Cody decided it was time to become a reinforcement. "Oh, yeah," he said condescendingly as he walked over and knelt by the struggling Noah.

His son's expression was upset and though he looked adorable in his matching outfit and thick blonde hair, he was vehemently kicking away all chancing of wearing the final installment to his outfit.

Simply because the shoes were blue, and Noah _hated_ the color blue.

"If you let mommy put on your shoes I'll definitely get some ice cream. We could get a big chocolate mudslide, or a sundae-,"

"-Chocolate with sprinkles." said Noah, ceasing his fidgeting.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Cody agreed.

Noah raised a skeptical brow. "Chocolate with sprinkles," he said again.

Cody smiled a little and ruffled his son's hair. Noah flinched a little and backed away as though fearful. "Okay," Cody said, his smile firmly in place. "Chocolate-,"

"-With _sprinkles_."

Twenty minutes later the three of them were in the car and on their way to Boston. It was a long, long drive, but Noah was near impossible to take on planes. He hated any break of routine, and just getting him to agree to go on this little excursion was like asking the president to leave the White House.

"And all the bags are in the back?" Allison asked her husband as he pulled out of the Chicago suburbs. "Noah's suitcase and his other stuff?"

Cody nodded. "I packed it all together with ours."

Allison moaned softly and massaged her closed eyes. "He likes his clothes separate, honey," she said as though explaining something to an ignorant child.

Cody sighed. "Right," he said, just now remembering. "I'm sorry." It had been dark when he'd packed and he had just gotten off a long shift.

He glanced in the rearview mirror to check on his son, and found solace in the fact that Noah was pensively staring down at a little pop-up book in his lap. (Last time they'd driven to Boston they'd given him a puzzle but it had turned into a royal catastrophe when one of the pieces was dropped.)

"We'll deal with it when we get to your mom's," Allison accepted, sighing. Cody felt bad, suddenly; lately it seemed like all he was doing was letting her down.

"Dr. Walker tells me that you talked down a leaper the other day."

Allison smiled sheepishly and massaged her temples. "Dr. Walker gives me too much credit," she said good-naturedly. "There was an eighty-year-old Alzheimer's patient and she wandered up onto the roof…I was showing a new mother how to feed her baby and I hear this singing, so I went up to try and figure out who it was, and it was this woman. Singing _Summertime_ to all of Chicago."

Cody smiled fondly. "So, you brought her back to her senses, returned her to her concerned family and went about business as usual?"

Allison shot him a playful look. "No," she said gently. "I brought her back to her senses, returned her to her concerned family and had lunch with a five-year-old."

Cody raised a brow as he changed lanes. Noah hadn't moved and was still staring solemnly down at the pop-up book. "With a five year old…?"

Allison laughed musically. "A new big brother," she clarified. "His dad had pulled him out of camp and he was scared something had happened because both his parents were busy and he was alone in the waiting room."

"Poor kid," Cody said sympathetically, resisting the urge to glare at a driver who'd decided to cut him off. "Was everything okay?"

"Everything was fine," Allison answered. "In fact, me and him had a very meaningful conversation regarding dinosaurs."

"Dinosaurs," Cody repeated. "Your job sounds so hard, my dear."

Allison slapped him teasingly on the arm. "I learned more than I ever knew before about Brontosaurus."

Cody and her laughed happily for a few minutes until Cody frowned thoughtfully and accelerated onto the next interstate. "What do you think of the name Benjamin?" he asked curiously.

Allison made a throaty noise and took a sip of the iced tea in the cup holder to her left. "Traditional," she responded slowly. "I like the name Cooper."

Cody wrinkled his nose. "Are we having a child or a puppy?"

Allison rolled her eyes condescendingly. They already knew that if the baby was a girl her name would be Sophia, but if they had another boy their name had yet to be selected. "How about Jeremy?"

Cody shrugged. "Eh," he said, not wild about it. "Blair?" he suggested.

"What kind of name is _Blair_?" Allison asked with a laugh. She thought for a moment. "What about Robert?"

Cody pulled out of a semi's blind spot and nodded heartily. "Nice name," he prompted. "Traditional, but still kind of modern."

"We could call him Robby for short," Allison agreed. Cody wasn't thrilled with the nickname, but let it pass as he exited the freeway. "How 'bout it, Noah?" Allison turned in her seat to address her son and he crinkled his nose as he flipped the page in his pop-up book. "Do you like the name _Robert_?"

Noah sighed. "Ice cream," he whined without looking up. "You said we could get ice cream and we haven't gotten it yet!"

Allison raised her brows at Cody who snickered cheerfully and flashed a thumb's up in the mirror. "When we get closer, Noah," he promised. "You still want chocolate with sprinkles?"

Noah allowed a small grin. "Chocolate with sprinkles," he solidified.

* * *

New York, New York

August, 2012

* * *

Zack was late and he knew it, but he couldn't leave until he'd finished speaking with the newspaper representative from a paper in Rochester.

"What is Mr. Bailey's opinion on healthcare?"

"I told you," Zack said, trying not to sound disgruntled. He couldn't help but notice the clock on the wall, and it seemed to be reminding him more that he should have left and hour and a half ago. He was expected in Boston at six.

And it was three thirty.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Martin, I don't think I wrote it down-,"

"-Mr. Bailey believes in individual health care," Zack recited. "He believes in increased funding towards federal hospitals and has a great interest in conserving as many American jobs as possible."

"And how does he feel about immigration?"

Zack impatiently tapped his fingers against his desk and made a significant jerk of his head towards the door. "Mr. Bailey will address all further questions at the debates in three weeks. I'm in a hurry, if you don't mind…"

He trailed off significantly and the young, nervous reporter hopped up and nearly sprinted to the door. "Thank you, Mr. Martin—I appreciate this very much. I-would you like me to send you a copy of the story when it's-,"

"-That's somebody else's job," Zack answered shortly. "We receive all articles written about Mr. Bailey via our press committee."

"Well," said the journalist awkwardly. He tipped his hat and scurried out of the room with a hasty, "have a nice day!"

Zack shook his head bemusedly and sank back down in his seat. He shared this office with another "political aid" and didn't really mind, because he was usually out answering phone calls or forwarding messages or meeting with the speech and publicity committees.

The election was like a Broadway show—Mr. Bailey was the star, and the rest of them were the back-up dancers and crew members who made it all possible. They were the behind-the-scenes workers who kept the audience happy and the cameras rolling. They were the writers, directors, make-up and pit orchestra that made everything come together in time for opening night.

Just as he had began to pack up some things for the long weekend ahead his phone began to ring. Zack tried not to scowl and lifted the receiver, pressing a blinking button as he answered.

"Zachary Martin," he said, voice crisp and pleasant.

"We're up in the polls!"

He recognized the voice as that of Ava's, and when he took in her words he pumped his fist in the air, and instant grin breaking out on his face. "Since when?" he asked her eagerly.

"Sharon just sent me a clipping. Andrew just gave a speech on some plan to fight poverty and made it all controversial. He turned away half the big names in the city, for Christ's sake!"

Zack laughed loudly. "I was just talking to some reporter who wanted to know about Bailey's stance on immigration. I told him I couldn't tell him anything and he'd have to wait until debates so we wouldn't make that same mistake-,"

"-Pray hard tonight that he doesn't run off and turn this into something it's not. Did you word it right or-,"

"-Relax," Zack assured her, cracking his knuckles and nodding once in greeting as someone he knew walked by the office window. "You would've had to have done some major damage control if I'd come out and said what Bailey _really_ thinks. That'd be like handing Andrew the position-,"

"-Bailey's policy actually has a lot of merit. When the public understands-,"

Zack rolled his eyes. "Ava," he said as if it were staggeringly obvious. "Half of New York's population is immigrants! If we come out and say that Bailey supports anti-immigration _laws_ how many do you think are going to go running to Andrew?"

"You've made your point," Ava allowed. "But sooner or later-,"

Suddenly the fact that he was late hit him again and Zack's heart skipped a beat. "-I'm sorry, Ava—but I'm really late. I'll see you Tuesday, okay? I'll have my cell on so you can contact me."

After hearing her goodbye, Zack set down the phone and grabbed his file folders. If he left immediately he could be in Boston by six thirty.

If he was very, very lucky.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Please review!_

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NEXT: Zack and Cody agree to spend the day together, but when they find themselves in a dangerous situation will they both make it out unscathed? And the truth about Seth's death is revealed...


	27. August, 2012: Part II

**A/N**: Guess what? There are only **two more chapters** left after this one, plus an epilogue. Can you believe it? It's almost been a whole year since I've started this story ). Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

FLASHBACK

New York, New York

November, 2010

* * *

"Go fish."

"This is the stupidest game ever. Five-year-olds can play better than us!"

"_Go fish_, already."

Charlie rolled his eyes and drew out a card from the hopelessly random pile between the two roommates. He glared at the selected card and looked up to face his friend with a scowl.

"Do you have any sevens?" Zack asked strategically. Charlie cursed and threw him a seven. With a sly smile Zack placed it with his original card to join the other numerous pairs at his feet. "You're such a sore loser, man," he said jokingly.

"Why don't you just go-,"

But Zack never found out what he just go and do, because at the moment the phone rang, interrupting Charlie's irritable retort. Zack (being closest to the receiver) picked it up and answered. "Hello?"

As he listened to the words spoken by the opposite line his face paled and his blue eyes went wide. After a few moments of shaky questions he slowly hung up the phone. He stared at the ground numbly, brows furrowed as if deep in thought.

"What?" Charlie demanded impatiently. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Zack looked at him, eyes wide and mouth gaping slightly. He ran a hand through his blonde hair and shook his head.

"Zack! _What_?"

Zack raised his gaze to meet the alarmed eyes of Charlie, and slowly spoke the words he didn't want to say. "Seth's-," he paused, hearing a sharp ringing in his ears. "Seth's dead," he finally managed. "He's gone."

Charlie looked at him as though he'd sprouted wings and eventually forced out a laugh. "Oh, _ha_-ha," he said with a snort. "Funny, man, frickin' _hilarious_."

Zack said nothing, closing his eyes briefly and massaging his temples as he dropped the playing cards limply to the floor.

Charlie froze, his smile slowly fading as he took in his friend's response. "You're serious," he said lowly. Zack nodded, and Charlie sighed deeply. "Crap," he said.

"This is so messed up," Zack remarked, shaking his head in disbelief and feeling like he was a teenager again for all the mixed emotions rushing through him.

"How'd he die?" Charlie asked shortly, eyes sharp and steely. "He was just here. How could he have _died_? That's complete bull-,"

"-He was sick," Zack interrupted, remembering full-well the last exchange he'd had with his friend. "He passed out behind the wheel and his car hit one of those concrete overhangs on the highway."

Charlie frowned. "He was sick? When?"

Zack felt some sort of irrepressible guilt rise up within him and his breath caught in his throat. "Right before he left," he whispered numbly. "He said he wasn't feeling well…But I didn't-I let him go, you know? I just let him _go_."

Charlie's expression became stern. "Zack," he said firmly. "It's not your fault that Seth's dead, okay? Don't start beating yourself up about it."

Zack shook his head, blinking rapidly as the weight of his mistake fell on his shoulders like lead. Charlie scooted over and set his hand on his roommate's shoulder, looking at him persistently.

"You didn't _know_," he reiterated, voice hardened. "I'm serious, Zack, it's not worth feeling guilty over—it wasn't your fault! It was an accident, man!"

Zack felt tears rise up in his eyes and he hugged his knees to his chest, burying his face in his arms. He'd never felt so guilty before.

In the weeks following the accident Charlie was very much in charge. As Zack kept reliving the moment where he'd almost reached out and prevented Seth from going, Charlie would be there trying to convince him otherwise. They attended the funeral as if in a daze, and then returned to the apartment different people.

For Zack, his guilt had slowed faded into a resolve and longing to write. For Charlie, the tragedy had matured him and he soon expressed an interest to explore other career opportunities. In a few months both were packed and ready to go.

* * *

PRESENT DAY

Boston, Massachusetts

August, 2012

* * *

"Did I tell you I met up with an old patient of mine not too long ago?"

They stood in the small kitchen, Zack, Allison and Carey (Noah was playing out in the main room), and had been talking about this and that for well over half an hour. Zack, Allison and Noah had arrived an hour previous and since Zack was late they'd put off dinner for the time-being.

"In a good way, I hope?" Carey answered with a smile. Cody laughed and nodded, sipping the mug of coffee he held in his hands.

"I saw him twice a few years ago, actually as one of my first patients, for getting beat up and then for a suicide attempt." said Cody. "And he came back to tell me he's enrolled at Northwestern studying architecture. Isn't that great?"

"That's wonderful," Carey agreed. "Sounds like you really made an impact in his life."

Allison peeked over to look at Noah. He was busy stacking the pillows in some sort of skyscraper. Carey met her gaze. "How's the pregnancy?" she asked genuinely.

Allison smiled widely and placed one hand on her belly which had grown over the months. "Perfect," she replied whimsically. "Everything's been going perfect."

Cody grinned. "We went in for a check-up the other month and everything's looking great," he reached out to hold his wife's hand affectionately.

"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl yet?"

"Not yet," Allison answered. "Soon."

"We were talking on the way up abo-,"

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and, after exchanging an excited look with her son and daughter-in-law, Carey hurried over to open it. Swinging it wide she allowed Zack to duck inside, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a box of chocolate in the other.

"Hey!" he announced gallantly, grinning widely and scooting into the suite as Carey closed the door behind him and embraced him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Hi, Zack," Allison answered, walking over and crouching down next to Noah. The toddler had gone very still, his blue eyes wide and round as he gaped at his uncle.

"How's it going?" Cody walked over, sticking his hand out and pulling his brother into a hug.

"It's going good, it's going good." said Zack, staring over his twin's shoulder and at his nephew. "Is this Noah?" he asked in surprise. "My God, kid! You've grown!"

Anxious but silent, Carey, Cody, and Allison watched as Zack made his way over to Noah and knelt down next to him, smiling in greeting. Usually (as he had first done with Carey) Noah was scared witless by strangers and would react by either hiding fearfully behind his mother or running away screaming.

But thus far, Noah was doing neither.

He stayed directly at his uncle, mouth still gaping slightly. Zack cocked his head and waved a little. "Hey, kid," he said cheerfully.

And Noah, much to everyone's surprise, waved back.

* * *

An hour later Zack and Cody had been sent out to do something together before dinner while Carey and Allison (and Noah) talked about the pregnancy and motherhood and Girl Stuff back in the suite.

They had just left a café, each holding identical Styrofoam cups of coffee as they began walking down the crowded Boston streets.

"This lady Ava (she's dating Charlie—remember him?) keeps telling me not to tell things to the press, but sometimes it's like we're completing lying to them. And I _know_ that's part of politics, but these are huge issues we're choosing not to discuss."

Cody listened pensively to his brother, raising the cup philosophically to his lips. "She's had more experience than you," he remarked logically. "Maybe there's more to it than just disclosing information."

Zack scowled. "It's my job to handle the media," he said darkly. "I'm their best political journalist, and I intend to do my job right."

Cody sighed, ever the voice of reason. "Sometimes what's right for you isn't right for the big picture," he reminded his twin. "I might want to show a boy with a broken arm the different colors of casts he can choose, but if he's color-blind it doesn't do much good, does it?"

Zack blinked. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked baldly.

"Sometimes there's more to things, Zack," explained Cody patiently. "Just give it-,"

His statement was suddenly cut off by Zack's sudden stop. Cody frowned, turning slightly to see what was the matter. His stomach flipped over as soon as he saw Zack gripping his hair, eyes squeezed shut, and quickly shot into action.

Grabbing his brother's arm, he gently led him over to a secluded alley between two buildings and sat him down against the wall. He knelt before him, frowning worriedly at his twin's sudden paleness and at how hard Zack was shaking.

"Hey—Zack-," Cody moved his hand to touch his brother's cheek, quietly trying to reassure him as faint moans escaped the journalist's mouth. His breaths were coming out in short little gasps, and Cody could feel heat radiating off his forehead.

A fever. That was new.

"Zack, it's going to be okay, alright?" Cody made his voice sound soothing as he lowered his hand to hold his twin's shoulder. "It'll pass in a few moments."

But it didn't pass, and it wasn't over in a few moments.

Instead, Zack's face relaxed and he slouched against the wall, hands falling limply to his sides. He was unconscious.

Cody frowned deeply; brow furrowed in intense concern, he quickly pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911.

What was wrong with his brother?

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Penny for your reviews?_

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* * *

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NEXT: It's been years of struggle, but will Zack's headaches finally point to what's really wrong with him? And if they do, is that a good thing...or a bad?


	28. August, 2012: Part III

**A/N**: Right, so, this chapter answers the Big Question I introduced way back in August. But not every answer is a good one, you know? Sometimes it's better _not_ knowing...Well. Anyway. I think I'm actually going to have **two more chapters** after this one, and then of course the **epilogue**, because I see now that it wouldn't be right to rush it. Enjoy!

And, of course, thanks so much to all who reviewed :).

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

Boston, Massachusetts

August, 2012

* * *

"Martin family?"

Cody kissed the top of Noah's head gently before handing him to Allison and rising from his seat in the waiting room. A Doctor stood in the doorway and, upon seeing the young couple, their son, and Carey, walked over.

"How is he?" Cody asked briskly. After Zack had lost consciousness, Cody had called for an ambulance. Once his brother had been admitted to the hospital Cody had gone ahead and alerted his wife and mother who'd come immediately.

Two hours later they were finally getting some attention.

"Dr. Martin, Mrs. Martin," the new doctor nodded politely at the two women and Cody. "My name is Dr. Savage." He smiled politely and they returned the strained expression. "We ran an MRI on Zachary's brain. Has he ever had one done before?"

Cody exchanged a look with his mother. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Not to my knowledge." He glanced at his watch. "But he's been having headaches for years now. The last time he was admitted the doctor diagnosed them as migraines."

The currant doctor nodded slowly and glanced at the chart in his hands. "And was he on any medication for the migraines?"

"Briefly," answered Cody. He'd prepped himself for such questions, and had spent most of the waiting time familiarizing himself with his brother's medical history. Apart from a concussion at age sixteen and the admission three years back, Zack's records had been clean.

"The MRI showed significant swelling in the frontal lobes of his brain. We ran a CAT scan to double check about an hour ago, and a team of doctors are going over it now." explained Dr. Savage.

Cody frowned. "Swelling? Are you sure the MRI was correct?"

"Very sure. The frontal lobes of his brain were significantly enlarged-,"

"-You're telling me he's living with a swollen brain for three years and the only side effect was a _headache_?"

Dr. Savage sat down across from the family. Cody glared at him intently and Carey stared nervously on. "We believe the swelling is due to a severe case of aseptic encephalitis. Because it's caused by a virus, it's possible it remained somewhat dormant for years, with, like you said, rather minimal side effects."

Cody narrowed his eyes a little. "Encephalitis?" he repeated. At Dr. Savage's nod he thought back to medical school, wracking his brain for anything other than the definition of the disease. "He's twenty seven," Cody said quietly. "I was under the impression encephalitis affected only infants and the elderly."

"In rare cases the CDC reports encephalitis in other ages. Is it possible Zachary came into contact with HSV?"

Cody gaped at him in horror. "_Herpes_?" he exclaimed in outrage. "Absolutely not," he said defiantly, trying to parlay the small voice of possibility in his mind.

Dr. Savage made no visible reaction. "Other causes include mononucleosis, Lyme disease, mosquitoes, meningitis…Ringing any bells?"

Cody sighed. Mosquitoes opened a door filled with millions of possibilities, and Zack could have been suffering from any number of viruses without even knowing about it. His easy discontentment with his so-called "dream jobs" (both journalism and now politics) pointed to personality changes, a stark contrast to the once easy-going Zack that Cody had forgotten to miss.

"Is he going to be alright, doctor?" Carey piped up nervously, her eyes were wide and her skin was pale. Allison patted her shoulder sympathetically, balancing Noah on one knee as he gazed hypnotically at a chart displaying bone decay.

Dr. Savage smiled at her gently. "Fortunately, treatment for encephalitis is usually very successful. We're running blood tests right now, and we'd like to keep him in the ICU until we can be sure the medication is working."

Cody ran a hand through his hair. "Can we see him?"

"He's awake, so yes, you can." The doctor paused. "But before you do, there's one more thing I'd like to talk to you about."

* * *

"Incranial hypertension."

That was Zack's greeting as Cody stepped into the room, sans Carey, Allison and Noah as they waited outside. "What about it?" answered Cody quietly.

Zack shrugged, closing his eyes as he lay his head back down on the elevated pillow. Two wires (connected to his temples) ran down to a monitor that beeped every few seconds. "Heard one of the nurses say it," he answered lowly. He cracked an eyes open. "Is it bad?"

"Don't worry about it." said Cody. "It's just…cancer-related, mostly."

Zack's eyes shot open and he looked at his brother in alarm. "_What_?" he demanded. "I thought I had encephi-whatever!"

Cody nodded quickly. "You do," he assured him. Zack relaxed visibly. "They're running some blood tests right now, but they're almost positive."

Zack sighed, closing his eyes again. "Am I going to die?" he asked bluntly.

Cody frowned, sinking down on a stool near the bed. "No," he said firmly. Zack swallowed thickly and turned his head to the side, staring at a heart monitor.

"Then why's everyone so nervous?"

Cody hid his own cringe by turning away and taking a deep breath. From the bed, Zack noticed everything and when Cody gathered the courage to look back he met panicked blue eyes.

"The swelling in your brain-," Cody paused, trying desperately to switch into doctor-mode. But this was his twin, not just some random patient, and he was having trouble being direct and honest. "-It...hid a small tumor that the MRI picked up on."

Zack's eyes widened and he gaped at Cody. "What?" he whispered fearfully.

"The doctors think it's benign, but there's a possibility that it's-," Cody shut his eyes. "Inoperable," he finished softly.

Zack lowered his gaze to his hands. "I thought you said I wasn't going to die."

"You're not going to die," Cody reinforced, timid voice stronger. "If the tumor's benign and operable they can operate and remove it and everything will be fine! They think the encephalitis will respond well to treatment." His eyes were bright were an innocent sort of hope hope. "There's a good chance you'll walk out of here completely fine!"

Zack still hadn't looked up. The monitors continued to beep incessantly.

"Zack!" Cody urged desperately, not liking his twin's lack of reaction. "Zack, listen to me, okay? You're going to be fine. There's a good chance it's not malignant and totally operable-,"

"But they don't know," said Zack dully. He laughed humorlessly and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "This is bad…" he murmured.

"No, it's not!" said Cody impatiently. He shot up from the chair and paced. "Stop thinking like that," he demanded bossily. "You-you can't just give up. Just because the doctors aren't sure doesn't mean you're going to die!"

Zack closed his eyes, breathing deeply as if determined to remain calm. Or at least calmer than his brother. "Cody," he said softly. "I've been having these headaches for over three years. If the tumor's been there that long it's probably grown significantly. You have to catch these things early-,"

"-You're not a doctor!" Cody cried out, hot tears burning his eyes. "_I_ am! And I say the tumor's benign, the encephalitis is treatable, and you're going to be _fine_!"

"Cody," Zack whispered, seeing how upset his twin brother was. "No matter what happens, I don't want to die in a hospital-,"

"-You're not going to die!" Cody nearly shouted in fury. His eyes blazed. "_Goddammit_, Zack! The tests haven't come back yet. They don't _know_ yet!"

Zack said nothing, and Cody knew if he stayed in there any longer with him he'd either break down or do something he'd later regret. He didn't want to succumb to either possibilities, so he chose to leave.

"You're not going to die, Zack," he said once more as he left the room. _You can't_, he added silently.

* * *

Carey decided to go pick up coffee for everyone, apparently unable to wait any longer. Noah was asleep in Allison's arms as she rested her own on Cody's shoulder. Cody himself was nervously bobbing his knee up and down, going through every medical diagnosis and treatment he could think of to sooth himself.

"They think it's benign," Allison said quietly. Cody nodded firmly.

"I'm sure it is," he answered curtly, sounding oddly like Zack. He clenched his eyes shut and bowed his head as Allison pulled away, gently shifting Noah's weight in her lap. "What if it's not?" he asked softly, trying to face the inevitable if it should come. Allison rested her hand on his arm gently.

"Take it one step at a time," she reminded him. "That's all you can do."

Noah chose that moment to awaken, big blue eyes blinking sleepily. Cody stared down at his young son lovingly and Noah cocked his head a little. "Hey, buddy," Cody said, blinking his eyes firmly.

"Is uncle Zack okay?" Noah inquired monotonously.

Cody forced himself not to look at Allison. "Yeah," he nodded. "He's going to be fine, Noah."

* * *

Carey was doing a wonderful job of remaining composed, and Cody was awed by her strength. She'd gone back several times to be with her older son, whereas Cody had yet to find the courage to do so.

Especially when he saw Dr. Savage coming towards them.

Cody was rising before he knew he wanted to stand, sucking in a nervous breath before he knew he should be afraid, and praying passionately before he knew that was what he wanted to do.

Dr. Savage motioned for them to sit down. "We got the results back on Zack's tests," he started. Cody forced himself not to interrupt and instead listened intently. Dr. Savage sighed sympathetically and placed his hand on Carey's knee as if in support. "I'm so sorry," he said genuinely. "The tumor's considerably more progressed than we originally thought. It doesn't appear to be operable."

Cody felt as if a wall of bricks had hit him and he stared numbly at the doctor. Carey bowed her head and began to sob, and Allison quickly enveloped her in a hug. Noah didn't look up from where he sat playing with blocks on the floor.

"How-," Cody's voice broke and he steeled himself into control before starting again. "How long does he have?"

Dr. Savage met the young doctor's gaze. "A few months at best," he answered.

Cody closed his eyes, feeling hot tears burn in his eyes. "Okay," he whispered. But it wasn't okay. It wasn't even close to being okay. It was the very _epitome_ of being _not_ okay, because now he was going to lose his brother. Now he was going to lose Zack to something that had been brewing right there under their noses…

Anger filled him. Anger and the worst sadness Cody had ever felt. It seemed bent on ripping him apart, and in fact it seemed almost like it was. Dr. Savage made no move to touch him (indeed he was seasoned and knew when such actions would go over well).

"I'm so sorry," he said sincerely. Cody nodded, wiping quickly at his eyes and covering his mouth with his hands.

As the doctor slowly turned to leave (after telling them he'd give them some time), Cody turned silently towards him inconsolable mother, and to Allison who had tears running down her cheeks. Rather than join them (something he knew he couldn't do), Cody knelt down on the floor and hugged Noah.

And, for whatever hidden reason, his son didn't pull away.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Yeah...Review, perhaps?_

* * *

NEXT: A month later. Allison finds out the gender of her new baby, Cody tries to work his job as if nothing's wrong, and Zack calls on a few old friends for "one last hurrah".


	29. September, 2012

**A/N**: One more chapter after this, and then the epilogue. Prepare your goodbyes...

Thanks to all who reviewed!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

Chicago, Illinois

September, 2009

* * *

"I've been having these…Headaches for the past couple months."

Cody yawned and began to pet Buster who lay curled up at his feet. "Headaches? What-like, migraine sort of headaches?"

A pause; a shuffle. "Really bad ones. A few times a week; sometimes more."

"Okay," said Cody, trying to focus and understand his brother. He got up from the chair and walked into the kitchen, Buster at his heels. "Can you tell me the symptoms you've been having with these headaches?"

"Uh. I don't know, man, it's sort of a drilling kind of pain-feels like it's digging into my eyes. Dizziness."

"And do you usually have a bad stomach ache afterwards?" Cody tried to think of what the problem might be, but nothing in particular came to mind.

"Sometimes? Maybe? I don't know. I can't remember…"

Cody rubbed a hand over his eyes and blew out his breath. "Have you been experiencing dizziness at other parts of the week? Without the headaches? Any disorientation or sudden bursts of color?"

"Sometimes. When I drink it goes away…Do you think it's something alcohol can cure?"

Cody rolled his eyes childishly and walked over to his wall calendar. "The only thing alcohol 'cures' is a smart man," he said cryptically. "Drinking's definitely not the answer, Zack, and I hope you haven't been thinking it is."

"So, what? What do I do, Doc.?"

Cody traced his fingers over the upcoming weeks. "Zack, it's just not that simple, okay? You should go to your doctor; have him do some tests, draw some blood…That sort of thing. Then you can determine exactly what's wrong. You know, it could just be a chemical imbalance issue or something requiring treatment-,"

"-You don't think it's, like, brain cancer, do you?"

"No, Zack. I highly doubt you have brain cancer."

* * *

Northview, Illinois

September, 2012

* * *

"Do you have a prediction?"

"Of course."

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

"Mmm…I'd rather not say."

Allison smiled playfully at him and Cody shook his head good-naturedly. He held her hand tightly as they followed their doctor to the exam room. This was the day where they were to find out if Noah was to have a younger brother or a younger sister. Noah himself was at daycare, undoubtedly piecing together some puzzle.

Once Allison had gone away to don the hospital gown and, with the assistance of a nurse, laid on the bed, the ultrasound was prepared.

The doctor smiled warmly at Allison who gave Cody a nervous grin. He tried his very hardest not to display his own anxiety, and squeezed her hand as he sat in a stool by her side. They'd gone through this with Noah, but it was still nerve-wracking. If something didn't look right…

"Are you ready?" the doctor asked politely.

Allison nodded at Cody as she responded. "Yes," she said.

"We're ready." said Cody.

The doctor slowly moved the machine, and everyone in the room followed the monitor religiously. Slowly, moving images began to come into focus and Allison let out a whispery laugh of happiness. Cody allowed a small smile, but glanced cautiously at the doctor just in case.

Because he wasn't sure he could take any more bad news, and as selfish as that sounded he knew it was the absolute truth.

Fortunately, the doctor seemed content. "Looks good…" she said kindly. "Everything's developing nicely…everything's on schedule…good movements…" she looked up at them eagerly. "Are you ready to find out if it's a boy or a girl?"

"We're ready." said Cody after Allison gave him a nod, still enraptured by her unborn child on the screen.

"Congratulations!" said the doctor. "It's a boy!"

* * *

New York, New York

September, 2012

* * *

"_Why Papa Rocelli's is Brooklyn's next greatest pizzeria_ by Zachary Martin. In a world of dull pepperoni, rancid Swiss and cheddar, and the driest crusts this side of the Sahara, Papa Rocelli has something new to offer: _taste_. Like the king of Italian eateries, Rocelli has been in the business of quality pizza making since he was a mere boy of twelve. His great feats behind the stove prove flawless, and he never fails t-,"

Zack groaned. "Not one of my better articles."

Charlie grinned and shrugged, tossing the old paper on the counter. "Alright," he said lightly, lifting another edition. He cleared his throat and read, "_The Wheels on the Bus go Down, Down, Down: a Look at the Chicago Bus Tragedy_ by Zachary Martin. Susan Thompson, forty four, will never see her son again-,"

Charlie immediately broke off, glancing nervously up at his friend. Zack cast him a fake grin and shoved the last of his sandwich into his mouth to compensate for the words he didn't have to say.

Charlie scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Not one of your more cheerful articles," he offered apologetically. "Let's move on, shall we?"

But Zack didn't want to. "Nah," he said. An uncomfortable silence transcended and the two old friends sat in the small kitchen of the little apartment, waiting it out. They were waiting a lot of things out.

"Do-do you want to just take a walk?"

Charlie forced a wide grin. "Absolutely," he said gallantly.

They walked on down to the subway and rode it up to Central Park. They both ordered ice creams from a vendor, licking them solemnly as the last of summer's warmth faded away in the pink sky. The sun was setting, the crowd was moving, and the world was carrying on as usual.

"Hey-," Zack stopped, suddenly, reaching out for something as his vision suddenly became double and he felt terribly dizzy. Charlie immediately grabbed his shoulder securely and led him over to a bench, sitting him down gently.

Zack closed his eyes, waiting for the spell to pass. It did, eleven seconds later, and then he looked up and at the world going on normally around them. Nobody had noticed anything, and for this he was grateful.

Well. Charlie had noticed.

"You okay? Do you feel sick? Should I call someone?" His voice was alarmed.

"I'm okay," said Zack lowly. That was a lie, of course. He was nowhere near okay, but at the moment he wasn't as bad as what he could be. He could still walk and talk and function. Sometimes he'd forget little things, but then he'd always remember later. And yeah, the headaches were completely unbearable, but he didn't have on now. Now, he was okay. And now was the only time that mattered.

Charlie sighed and ran a hand down his face. "God," he muttered. Zack cringed, leaning forward on the bench and trying to blink enough to see the colors correctly. That was another thing—the world had, at one point or another, decided to exist in single shades of tope and brown and olive.

"I'm sorry." Zack apologized because he was sorry. Because it was all his fault that Charlie had insisted he move in with him, and that he'd had to quit his job with Ava even though he knew he had been meant to work in politics.

Maybe, in another life where he wasn't dead by twenty seven, he'd run for president. Maybe he'd even have gotten elected into office; taken the oath, addressed the nation as they looked at him for complete guidance in this crazy world…

Ah, whatever.

"Don't say you're sorry," said Charlie, looking at his friend patiently. "It's not your fault, man, nothing ever was. You're just…programmed, or whatever, to be the big brother all the time."

The accusation was probably true. Zack sighed. "Maybe," he allowed.

People walked by, busy with their own lives as they moved briskly on through the park as if only there to reach the end. They took no note of the two young men sitting at a bench and looking sadly out at the world, and they had no means of comprehending what both were going through.

"Hope I get to see the election." said Zack with a touch of sarcasm.

Charlie ruffled. "Of course you will, man," he said dimly. "That's—what? Two months away. Yeah. You will." He spoke confidently and it lifted Zack's spirits slightly. Lately he'd been down and out, trying to enjoy life but not really seeing the point. The fact that he'd had to write a will at twenty six was depressing.

"This is so messed up…" said Charlie for the millionth time that month. "Why the hell does life have to be so frickin' _screwy_! It's not fair." He huffed angrily and kicked at rock on the ground.

Zack simply nodded.

"I mean…First Seth, and now _you_?"

Zack wasn't sure if Charlie was talking to him, or to the world in general but he became very quiet and listened carefully.

"We're supposed to live to eighty two, remember? Get married, have kids, grow really old and senile and end with Alzheimer's…That's how things work." Charlie sounded almost despondent, and Zack felt something stir within him.

"And you-," he started, pausing as his vision temporarily darkened and a flash of pain vibrated through his skull. Once the pain passed he swallowed thickly and continued. "You get to have that chance, man," he said lowly. "You're lucky."

Charlie looked at his friend in horror. "I didn't mean it like that!" he apologized immediately. Zack waved it off. "No—seriously…That was insensitive. I didn't mean—all I meant—it's just, everything and now _this_ and it's like—,"

"I get it, Charlie," said Zack softly. "I get it." He sighed, watching a few college students walk by. "We're grown up. And that kind of sucks."

"Hey-," said Charlie slowly, looking at him strangely. "It's going to be okay, alright? You'll-you'll be fine. You'll see the election."

"Yeah," Zack whispered, faking a smile. "Okay."

* * *

Chicago, Illinois

September, 2012

* * *

"Have you been having any trouble breathing? Any chest pain?"

The older man on the examination table nodded emphatically. "Yes!" he answered confidently. "Sometimes my chest feels sort of…tight. And when I go up more than one flight of stairs I get out of breath sooner than I used to."

Cody nodded briskly, putting away his stethoscope and jotting something down on a sheet of paper. "Mr. Zenin, I'd like to admit you to the hospital. That tightness in your chest? That and the shortness of breath could mean heart trouble-,"

"-My cholesterol's not high," the patient brought up. "I had it checked last month. Said I was as fit as a fiddle!"

Cody smiled reassuringly. It was a fake, medical expression that he'd learned to use when necessary. It meant nothing, was nothing, and always hurt to display. But he displayed it because that was part of the job.

"It's better to be cautious," he replied, tone friendly. "I'll go ahead and let you sign these papers and send a nurse in in a few minutes."

He closed the door gently on his way out, immediately leaning against a wall, running a hand down his face, and sighing deeply. Nine hours shifts weren't any fun, and he had to watch Noah tonight while Allison went to see her doctor. He'd promised his son a night of National Geographic films, and only hoped he'd be able to stay awake for all of them.

As always, thinking of his family gave him strength and he pushed himself into a straighter position as he prepared to go visit his next patient. On his way to the room he heard someone call his name, and upon turning saw that it was Dr. Walker.

The older doctor smiled warmly and Cody returned the expression.

"Dr. Martin. How are you doing?"

Cody smiled sadly. He missed his mentor calling him by his first name. "Hi, Dr. Walker. I'm okay, thank you. And yourself?"

"Actually," the man's face turned slightly more serious. "I was hoping you had time for a cup of coffee, perhaps?"

Cody hesitated, before sighing. "Of course," he consented.

Like they'd done so many times in the past, both doctors found themselves seats and two mugs of hot coffee in the small café across from the hospital. Upon their last visit Cody had told his mentor of Zack's cancer, surprising himself how strong his voice had been while he did it.

"How are you _really_, Cody?"

Cody smiled faintly, before the smile faded. He sighed. "I don't know." Dr. Walker waited patiently for him to continue, which Cody did shortly. "Allison and I—we found out that the new baby's a boy and healthy and I'm-I'm so happy for that…" He thought of his wife and son, and his unborn child and his spirit strengthened. Then he thought of his mom and Zack and his spirit faltered. "But at the same time…my brother…I feel like I should be _with_ him, you know? In New York, just spending time with him before…" he trailed off despondently.

Dr. Walker looked at him understandingly. "But you can't leave your responsibilities here, is that it?" Cody nodded miserably. Dr. Walker blew softly on his coffee to cool it before speaking again. "Most animals in the world leave their burrow or nest or what-have-you to mate, have their young, and move on. As humans, we are unique in that we continue to _care_ about those we leave behind, even after we've chosen _to_ leave them behind."

The older man watched Cody drink with his eyes closed as if savoring the flavor. "You know that you're not in New York with your brother because you belong here with your wife and children, but at the same time you're torn between your past and your future. It happens to all of us, sooner or later."

Cody nodded sadly. "I know it does," he said softly.

Dr. Walker looked at him carefully. "Maybe you're a little…afraid? Of losing him? Of being there as he dies?"

Cody cringed. Of course he was afraid of losing Zack! He'd been afraid of losing him since they were born twenty seven years back. "But I'll be there." he said firmly, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

"Cody," said Dr. Walker slowly. "Do not feel guilty because you've chosen to look after your new family; you haven't forgotten your old, no matter how much you think you have. Do you call Zack and your mother?"

"Nightly," said Cody.

"Then you have nothing to feel guilty for." Dr. Walker smiled deeply. "If Zack wants to live the rest of his days where he feels at home, by all means let him. If he wants to reject chemo and try to cling to some normalcy, I don't blame him, Cody."

Cody shook his head, wincing. "But he won't even give the chemo a try!" he cried. "Maybe—maybe it could work? Miracles-,"

"-Cody." Dr. Walker's voice was patient, and the young doctor's voice faded away. "It's his decision."

Cody could find no reply, so he merely took another drink of coffee.

States away, Zack quietly ate a slice of pizza with Charlie, Ava, and an assortment of other friends he'd made over the years. They reminisced over old times, and when night finally fell the moon didn't seem as dark to him as it usually did.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

_Please review!_

_

* * *

_

NEXT: Everything ends, but not everything is remembered.


	30. October, 2012

**A/N**: This was hard to write, but I am so proud that I finally have. Thank you so much to all who have ever taken the time to read this story. It meant a lot.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_.

* * *

"No. _No_. I'm sorry, you've been misinformed. Well, maybe you shouldn't trust editorial cartoons, then!"

He disconnected the call, smirking as he did so. Ava raised an eyebrow at him from across the room. "Any reason why you feel compelled to drive _away_ potential voters?" she asked him baldly.

He snorted. "Technically," he said, biting into an apple. "Everyone's a potential voter. Half of them are just gonna vote wrong, that's the problem."

Ava shook her head bemusedly, wearing that sly smile she always wore. "We're ahead anyway, which means your sabotage techniques have failed."

Zack laughed at her joke. "The election's not over yet," he reminded his friend.

Suddenly the office turned dark and Zack grabbed his head as he slouched over at the desk. He bit his tongue so hard he tasted copper, trying desperately not to cry out. He felt small hands on his shoulders but couldn't find the strength to react; pouring all his energy into not screaming out, though the pain was unbearable.

His very life seemed to flash before his clenched eyes, and he watched in agony as a mental image of himself aged, grew, matured, became a man…

He saw himself at three, playing hide-and-seek with his dad when they'd gone to the park, just the two of them.

He saw himself and Cody being introduced to their Kindergarten teacher, than playing tag with the other boys at recess several years later.

He saw himself playing basketball, getting report cards, kissing his first girlfriend, losing his virginity on a cool October night at seventeen…

He saw himself typing up miscellaneous articles at the _Times_, and then relaxing with Charlie and Seth back at the old apartment.

He saw himself finding out about Seth's accident, about Charlie's engagement, about Cody's wedding, about Noah's birth, about his father's death…

He saw himself seeing the New York City skyline from a discount flight as he and his dad flew in for the first time.

He saw his mother beaming with proud tears running down her face as he raised his graduation diploma high about his head, waving it in a joyous scene of triumph.

He saw himself as himself; at his worst times, at his best times, and at every time in between. There were friends and cousins and aunts and mothers and uncles and fathers and crushes and girlfriends and homeless men and journalists…

And his brother. There was always his brother.

* * *

Cody was in the middle of a routine check-up when he got the call. Logan, his friend from pediatrics, handed him the phone.

"It's your mother," he said gravely, voice solemn. Judy the receptionist and a few passing hospital employees stopped to murmurs sympathetic sentiments and to pat him on the back gently. Cody wished fervently that Dr. Walker was there, but he wasn't and so the young doctor was forced to take the phone with shaking hands.

"Mom?" he croaked, closing his eyes and collecting himself.

"Cody-," her voice broke, and Cody's heart sunk. _Oh, God_. "It's Zack, he-he collapsed this morning. I haven't heard from the doctors, but I thought you might-you might want to know…" He could hear her fighting back tears.

Cody felt reality slap him harshly once more and he ran a trembling hand down his face. "Okay," he said in a voice so soft it was like a whisper. "Um." He blinked, his mind suddenly going blank. "I-I'll be there as soon as I-as I can."

They hung up. Cody stared numbly into space for a few seconds before someone's hand rested firmly on his shoulder and steered him away and into the employee lounge. Cody didn't notice who it was helping him until he was opening up his locker and gathering up his things.

"Dr. Walker," he said distantly as if in a fog. He slowly shrugged off his white lab coat and managed a shaky smile. "I'm going to have to-to take off. My brother-,"

"-Go," Dr. Walker nodded, face gentle and understanding. "I'll take care of everything here. Are you all set with Allison and Noah?"

"Yeah," said Cody, voice thick. "We-we've got it, um, got it planned." He frowned at nothing and ran a hand through his blonde hair.

Dr. Walker nodded. "It's going to be okay, Cody." he said lowly. "I know it might not seem like it now, but someday it will be."

Cody shook his head, breathing deeply. "I'll-I'll call someone when I know when I'm coming back." he said monotonously. At the thought of his job and family his spirit strengthened, and when it spoke next his voice was strong. "Thank you for this, Dr. Walker," he said resolutely. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

* * *

Zack sighed, staring out the IV to the left of him and listening to the beeping of the heart monitored. Well. At least he was still alive. That was a good thing.

His mother had driven up that morning, arriving at the hospital just hours after he'd passed out in his office.

And now Carey was staring nervously at him, Charlie and Ava were getting Starbucks, and Cody was on his way.

That was all well and good, but Zack really just wanted to be alone.

Because if he was dying, he really didn't want to do so in a hospital bed surrounded by people watching him struggle to take his last breath. He didn't want people to look down at him and pity him, and he most certainly did not want to die while painkillers roared through his system.

Maybe that was stupid, but that was how he felt.

* * *

"Call me when you get there," Allison whispered as they embraced. He closed his eyes against her dark red hair and nodded painfully.

"I will," he assured her softly. He glanced down at her full belly. "If you have any problems I'll-I'll come home, okay? You can call Dr. Walker at the hospital and he'll know all our information. I left the-,"

"-Cody," Allison shook her head slightly, eyes big and sympathetic. "Your brother needs you. The baby's not due for four more weeks. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Cody nodded. He looked around his wife and at his son. Noah stood shyly behind his mother, staring up at his daddy with wise eyes. "Noah," said Cody, kneeling down. Noah hesitantly shuffled over, stopping about a foot away from his father. "Be a big boy, okay? For mommy."

Noah stared inquisitively at his father. "Give uncle Zack medicine?" he suggested seriously. Cody's heart nearly broke and he shook his head, determined not to cry.

"Sometimes medicine doesn't do what it's supposed to do," he tried to explain. Noah was frowning deeply, this information deeply contrary to what he was accustomed to hearing. "Sometimes people like daddy have to be okay with that."

Noah bit his lip, eyes focused on the ceiling. "Are you okay with that, daddy?"

Cody closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He heard Allison sniff and straightened his tie. "I have to be, Noah," he said gently. Noah sighed and turned away slightly, and Cody stood, halfway out the door.

"I have to be."

* * *

When Cody arrived at the hospital he was instantly enveloped in a tight hug from his mother. Crying hopelessly, Carey clutched her younger son to her bosom and stroked his hair, gulping back sobs. He held her; eyes dry as he comforted his mother. He recognized the two others in the waiting room as Zack's friends and held up a hand in quiet greeting.

When Carey released him she led him through the halls and to Zack's room, pausing outside the door. "It's not fair-," she managed, wiping at her eyes with a soiled tissue. "He has so much talent-," she broke off, blowing her nose.

Cody sighed and nodded, hand on the door. "This may not be it," he reminded her. "Have you heard from his doctor?"

Carey nodded. "They ran more tests. We're waiting for the re-results-,"

He patted her on the back again in comfort before gently turning to knob. Inside and in the bed Zack was resting, eyes closed as a few monitors beeped behind his head. Except for the IV in his arm and his pale complexion, he didn't look like he was dying. And that scared Cody.

"Hey," he said as he walked into the room.

Zack opened his eyes and smile slowly. "Hey," he replied. He pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing a little as he did so. "How're Allison and Noah?"

"They're good," said Cody, nodding. "Worried about you…"

Zack seemed to decide to pretend not to hear that last part and instead smiled wider. "That's great," he said genuinely. "When's the baby due, again? A month?"

"Four weeks," said Cody, basking in the normalcy of their conversation.

Zack's expression turned slightly lighter. "Don't even _think_ about naming him after me," he warned, wagging a finger at his twin. Cody cocked his head slightly. "You know how stupid I think naming people after other people is!"

Cody smiled a little. "As you wish," he allowed. Zack had opened his mouth to say more when the door suddenly opened and a doctor and nurses walked in. Cody stuck out his hand, shaking the man's hand.

"Dr. Cody Martin," he introduced himself.

"Dr. John Madison," Zack's doctor nodded politely. He held a chart in his hands and glanced down at it once before turning to Zack. "I have some important news to share," he said, glancing at Cody. "Is there anyone else you would like to be present while I explain it?"

Cody nodded. "My mother," he said quickly. A nurse left the room and a minute later returned with Carey in tow.

Dr. Madison smiled reassuringly, moving positions so he could address the little family as one. "I have some good news and bad news," he prefaced. Cody braced himself. "The good news is that we believe Zack's original diagnosis of the tumor being inoperable was incorrect."

Carey gasped softly, and Cody quickly grasped her hand, squeezing it. In the bed, Zack furrowed his brow. Cody tried to stop his knees from shaking so badly.

Dr. Madison gave them a considerate moment before continuing. "We have an excellent surgical team willing to perform surgery to remove the greater portion of the tumor at the soonest possible time. With your consent, we can you in surgery by this afternoon, Mr. Martin," the doctor said to Zack.

Cody frowned. "What's the bad news?" he asked hesitantly.

Dr. Madison glanced again at the chart he held. "The…cancer has spread, and even by removing this tumor it will not stop it. Coupled with chemotherapy, however, and radiation therapy the surgery would give him another year, maybe eighteen months."

The hope that had found its way to Cody's heart faltered cruelly, and he released his mother's hand subconsciously. "I see," he managed.

Zack coughed from the hospital bed. "Can I have some time to think it over?"

Cody looked at him in horror. "_What_?" he demanded. Zack looked away and Carey sniffed loudly.

"Thank you, Dr. Madison," she said gratefully, hugging him warmly. He returned the gesture, allowing them time to talk as he and the nurses left the room. Cody gaped incredulously at his brother.

"What is there to think over?" he asked breathlessly. "Zack—they're giving you another year and a _half_ to live!"

Zack shrugged. "But chemo and radiation and surgery-,"

"-So _what_!" Cody leaned in closer, desperate to convince his brother. "Zack, I am not going to let you die before you have to!"

Zack still wouldn't look at him. "That's a lot of money," he murmured.

"_Money_?" Cody shook his head in wild disbelief. "Money means nothing, Zack. I'll pay for anything I need to to give you another year-,"

"We all will, baby," Carey added, voice higher than normal.

Zack's shoulders fell. "But it's not really worth it," he said. "Going through all that just so I can live another year. I'm still going to die-,"

"-But you'll have more _time_!" Cody pressed, completely unwilling to surrender his twin. "Please, Zack—_please_!" he knelt by the bedside, folding his hands and staring pleadingly at his brother. "For me, for mom, for _you_-,"

Zack looked horrified at the tears in Cody's eyes. "Cody-," he began, but seeing his mother with tears running down his face he sighed brokenly. "Okay," he whispered. "Okay. I'll do it."

* * *

Later that night Cody sat in Zack's room. Unable to sleep and with a mixture of trepidation, guilt, and joy in his stomach he felt rather ill at ease. He sighed, rubbing at his face and smiling a little when he saw Zack's eyes open and looking at him. "Hey," he said to his brother.

Zack nodded. "Hey," he whispered.

And Cody felt oddly like that twenty-three-year-old medical student, standing in that E.R. for the first time, palms sweaty, heart racing…More than ready and willing to change his life. He'd come a long way, and yet not so much, really. He had Allison, the love of his life, and Noah, his pride and joy, and another son on the way whom he would cherish and adore…

And yet he still felt like a nervous student, a boy on the verge of manhood. He'd saved lives, changed lives, become someone…But he himself was no different. And that, he supposed, was the beauty of life.

"I wrote a book," said Zack from the bed. Cody snapped to attention and nodded slowly, impressed.

"Did you really?" he grinned boyishly. "I bet it's incredible."

Zack smiled, shrugging not-so-modestly. "Do you want to hear it?"

Cody rested his head on his hands and leaned forward. "I'd love to," he said sincerely. Zack nodded and began to tell it.

"It's about this guy," he said casually, sounding just like he always did. "And he lives alone in this apartment-,"

"-Is this a horror story?" Cody checked quickly. Zack laughed.

"No," he said reassuringly. "As I was saying, this guy lives alone, right, and he's got no one except for this homeless bum who sleeps outside his building. One day…"

And as the night slept on around them they were like boys again. With an innocence long disguised but never forgotten they lived and breathed and talked and existed like they always had, and even though time had changed them, people and experiences had shaped them, they were who they had always been. They were what they had always been.

Together.

"One day this guy decides he's going to do something he's never done before, but he's scared, you know? So the homeless bum tells him to search his soul…"

Outside, it started to rain.

* * *

**The End**

_Epilogue coming soon_

* * *


	31. Epilogue

* * *

"He's beautiful-," Cody breathed, taking in the sight of his newborn son with wide-eyed awe. Allison shifted the baby in her arms before handing him gently to her husband. Cody reached out, taking the bundle oh-so-delicately, and gazing lovingly down at the child that was his second son.

He slowly rocked the infant, eyes filling up with tears. "What-," he cleared his throat, glancing up at Allison and laughing emotionally. "What are we going to name him?"

Allison sighed happily, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I was thinking we could name him after Zack…" she suggested.

Cody smiled, shaking his head slightly. "No," he said quietly. "Zack wouldn't have wanted that. He thought naming people after people was silly…" His eyes saddened, that old familiar tinge of grief returning briefly.

The baby opened his mouth, beginning to cry a little until Cody rocked him gently. "Shh…" he breathed. "Don't cry, Bobby…"

Allison looked at him curiously. "Bobby?" she asked. Cody blinked, having not realized he'd spoken the name until that moment. "Robert, then?"

"I-," Cody looked quizzically at the now-sleeping boy. "If you're okay with-,"

"I love it." said Allison genuinely. Cody moved towards her, placing their new baby between them. At that moment the door opened and a small boy pushed his way inside the room. With a careful glance behind him, the child hurried over to his mom and dad and writhed his way up between them.

"Noah," said Cody quietly. "Meet your little brother, Bobby." He kissed Allison lovingly as they watched their two boys interact for the first time.

Noah took one of his brother's hands and gave it a gentle shake, doing what he knew was appropriate when introduced to another. "Nice to meet you, Bobby," he said proffessionally. "My name is Noah Curtis Martin, and I'm your big brother." He looked seriously at his father. "The name Robert is of French descent, originating around-,"

Suddenly the baby began to yawn, stretching his arms as he smiled up at his family. Noah stopped talking to look wonderingly at him, and Cody and Allison exchanged another proud, loving gaze.

"Welcome home, little guy," Cody whispered. "We love you already."

And he imagined that in the clouds above was another whom he had loved, and that this young man was smiling down on the happy family; proud, content…

And ready to watch them grow, change, and live their lives.

Because that was the beauty of life.

* * *


End file.
